


Brighton Rock

by MrsMCrieff



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Brighton - Freeform, Drunk Sherlock, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fun, Scavanger Hunt, Sex, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-07-28 16:05:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7647616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsMCrieff/pseuds/MrsMCrieff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bit of fluffy Sherlolly fun. The gang all go to Brighton for the weekend to celebrate Lestrade's stag do dragging a reluctant Sherlock along with them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilsherlockian1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsherlockian1975/gifts).



> So, who fancies some cracky, fluffy summertime fun! Well good news this is the place to be. I'll be honest I wrote this a while back but I've been waiting for the sunshine before posting. The holidays and the sun are finally here so the time is right. I'll post regular updates over the next few weeks. Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks to lilsherlockian1975 for all her help and ideas when writing this one. I love you Lil xxx.

Molly glanced at the clock for the tenth time that day and smiled to herself. It was almost time and she couldn't wait. Her bags were all packed and waiting and she just needed to take a quick shower and change and she'd be ready to go.

It had been a bit of a surprise when Lestrade had announced that he was remarrying and not to his previous wife for once. His new fiancée was a civilian member of staff working for the police and apparently they'd met through work and really hit it off, six months of dating, a short engagement and the wedding was in just over a week’s time.

That meant that this weekend was Greg's stag do and he had broken with tradition by inviting both sexes to the event.

In little more than an hour a mini-bus would be collecting them all and taking them down to Brighton for the weekend. Molly had booked a half day off work and was even now finishing off her final autopsy, hurriedly sewing the corpse back together so she could clock off.

Mike walked in to see how she was getting on, 'excited for this weekend then Molly?'

'Yes, I really am. I haven't been out of London since Christmas. It's going to be so nice being at the seaside and the weather looks perfect.'

He leant against one of the tables and folded his arms as he watched her finishing up and putting her tools in the cleaner.

'I still can't believe Sherlock's going with you.'

She glanced at him over her shoulder, 'no, me neither. I think it took some serious persuading on John's part. He was desperate for a case to get in the way but as of this morning they were still free to come along.'

'So who else is going? I know about you, Sherlock and John. I'm assuming Donovan and Anderson. Are they an item again or not? I never seem to be able to keep up.'

'Apparently they are together. Mary's going, two of Greg's colleagues Toby Gregson and Stan Hopkins. I know Gregson a little but Hopkins is in fraud so no need for autopsies, not so many fraudulent corpses knocking around in London.' She laughed a little at her joke. 'Oh, and Lestrade's cousin, they're quite close apparently, more like brothers. He's his best man. So, yes. That's it.'

As she said that she stripped off her gloves and threw them in the bin. 'Well, I think I'm done. There was nothing suspicious here, straight forward case so I'll write it up on Monday if that's OK?'

'Yes, that's fine. Go....enjoy yourself. But I want to see pictures otherwise I'll never believe Sherlock was even there let alone actually enjoyed himself.' 

An hour later and Molly was stood outside the main entrance of Barts, with her bags, looking up and down the street for signs of her ride. Greg said he had hired transport complete with a driver to take them down and last time she'd seen him there had been the promise of booze on the way to get them all in a party mood.

Just then she saw it, a blue, ten-seater minibus pulling around the corner before drawing up in front of her.

Greg slid the door open and climbed out, 'here she is, last one on board.' 

He quickly kissed her on both cheeks before picking up her main bag and taking it around to the boot which the driver had already opened. It was almost full but they managed to squeeze her stuff in.

'Right, let's get you on board.' They walked back to the door and Molly ducked her head as she climbed in, hearing multiple greetings from the other travellers. 'I'm afraid being the last to be picked up means you drew the short straw and get to sit next to Sherlock. As you can see he's in a buoyant mood.'

Molly glanced at Sherlock who was glowering as he looked out of the window, 'yes, very funny Graham.' He said without even looking at Molly who perched herself next to him on the multi-coloured velour seat.

Once she was sat down Greg pulled the door shut and sat himself next to a guy who Molly presumed was his cousin, he certainly bore a striking resemblance to Greg although he was maybe a couple of years younger with darker hair.

She turned around in her seat briefly to say hi to some of the others and Mary leant forward with a huge grin on her face. 'I am so grateful to Mrs Hudson for agreeing to look after Lizzie for a couple of days. It's my first weekend off since I had her. Drink?'

She fished out a plastic cup and held up a bottle of wine. Molly smiled back, 'why not.'

She held the glass whilst Mary poured and then they clinked cups and took a sip. 

Molly swivelled back in her seat and looked in Sherlock's direction letting out a quiet 'oh' as she finally took in what he was wearing.

He turned his head in her direction and frowned, narrowing his eyes, 'what?'

'Err...nothing. Are you not drinking?'

'Not yet, I prefer to drink out of real glasses,' Molly couldn't help but roll her eyes but he carried on, 'but don't try and distract me. What were you getting all shocked about?' He glanced down at himself. He had on a pristine white shirt and a pair of blue jeans, 'ah, the jeans. John's idea. He seemed to think it would be more appropriate somehow though I can't see what difference it makes what I wear.'

Molly smiled and took another drink of her wine, enjoying being able to wind down. 'I'm pretty impressed he managed to get you to come along this weekend. How did he do it?'

'First he swore he'd hide my ash collection, secondly he threatened to reveal, on his blog, what really happened on the Geek Interpreter case and third he reminded me that there would be a baby in Baker St for the weekend and that he would give Mrs Hudson permission to go out and leave me in charge.'

Molly chuckled at John's deviousness. 'So what did really happen on the Geek Interpreter case?'

Finally, he cracked a smile as he glanced at her. 'Now Molly, if I told you that I'd have to kill you. That's one secret I really don't want revealing.'

Molly vowed to ask John as soon as she was able to. 

They spent most of the rest of the journey talking about a couple of autopsies that Sherlock had been particularly interested in and carried on even when Anderson and Donovan told them off for being boring and talking shop. 

Molly refilled her glass a couple of times and was surprised when Sherlock plucked it from her hand once or twice and took a sip himself. 

As they started to get closer to Brighton the others started to sing 'we're all going on a summer holiday' and Molly laughed at Sherlock's expression as she started to join in. He shook his head in despair at them all but by the end he had a resigned smile on his face.

'Dear God, is this what the whole weekend is going to be like? Maybe I should have stayed home with the baby.'

Lestrade looked around. 'Oh don't worry Sherlock. It's going to get so much worse. We've got all sorts planned. Plenty of drinking, dressing up, a scavenger hunt and maybe even some rides on the fun fair, what's not to enjoy!'

'Hmm, what indeed?' With that he took Molly's glass once more and drained the contents. 'I think I'm going to need alcohol Molly and lots of it.'

Finally they arrived at their destination which was a small bed and breakfast within sight of the beach and pier. Greg explained that they had taken over the whole place so they could be as raucous as they wanted without disturbing other guests. 

They grabbed their bags and made their way in where they were greeted by an older guy, obviously gay and very warm and welcoming. 'Come in, come in. My, my so many delicious men, you girls look like you're spoilt for choice.'

Molly, Mary and Sally glanced at each other but gave an obligatory laugh.

'OK whose sharing with who? We have just enough bedrooms for you all.'

Greg stepped forward and signed the register. 'I'm sharing with my cousin, John and Mary are together, Toby and Stan are in a twin, Sally and Anderson, a double?' He glanced round at them with an eyebrow raised.

'Yes, a double. We are still together, it's only been two hours since we set off so no change in our relationship since then,' said Anderson sarcastically.

'Just checking.'

The owner gave out keys as Greg spoke and Sally, Anderson, Toby and Stan made their way upstairs.

'Then finally two singles for Sherlock and Molly.'

The old man frowned, 'oh.'

They all glanced at him, sensing a problem.

'Sorry, I didn't realise you'd be wanting any singles, we don't actually have any. There's only the one double left. I assumed everyone was in pairs when you made the booking.'

Greg looked around at Sherlock and Molly with concern written all over his face. Molly suddenly felt a little ill with nerves at the thought of sharing with Sherlock but what could she say.

Sherlock was the first to speak. 'Simple. I'll share with John and Molly with Mary.'

This had Mary shaking her head. 'Oh no. I'm really sorry but this is our first weekend away without the baby. I'm intending to make the most of my time with my husband. Sorry Molly. Maybe Sally and Anderson will...'

'No!' Everyone looked at Sherlock, shocked by the angry tone of his voice. 'I am NOT sharing with Anderson. The man is an idiot. Listen it's only two nights, Molly and I are adults so I'm sure we'll be fine. Molly, get the key.' With that he picked up both his bag and hers and made his way to the stairs.

'All right then, well let's get settled in and freshened up and we can meet in the bar in an hour. I'll let the others know.' Greg jerked his thumb towards the door opposite reception which doubled up as the breakfast room and small drinking lounge.

Molly followed Sherlock nervously up the stairs although the sight of his gorgeous backside in fitted, blue jeans was a very welcome distraction. On all the occasions that she had been thinking about this weekend she had at no point anticipated sleeping with Sherlock. She tried to remember which night shirt she had packed and groaned as she remembered it was a short, silky number....maybe he'd have something she could borrow....but then the thought of wearing his clothes had her biting her lip. Either way, this was not going to go well.


	2. Chapter 2

Their room was two floors up in the eaves of the house with John and Mary's room opposite. When they walked in Molly was pleased to see that it was quite a spacious room with its own en suite along with a couple of comfy chairs which sat in front of French doors looking out over the sea. She went over and opened them up. There was a high metal railing to stop anyone just walking out accidentally and she leant on it breathing in the tangy sea air and looking out at the sun-dappled, blue sea. Slowly she felt her equilibrium returning. He was right, they could do this. They were both adults.

She turned around watching Sherlock as he surveyed the room and checked the small but serviceable bathroom. The room itself was quite modern looking with a large double bed made up with perfectly ironed, cream cotton bedding. It was then that she spied a kettle and it immediately made her want a cup of tea. 

She went over and held it up. 'Do you fancy a cuppa Sherlock?'

'Hmm...oh, yes thank you Molly, tea for me.' 

She went to fill the kettle in the bathroom sink as he unpacked his bag; the trouble was when she came back in he was removing his shirt and she couldn't help but stare at his newly revealed, naked chest.

'You might want to plug that in.'

Finally she dragged her eyes up to his face to find him smirking at her. 'Sorry, what?'

'The kettle, you might want to plug it in.'

She looked down at her hand realising she was still holding the item in question. 'Oh...right..yes.'

As she put the teabags in the mugs she could see him in the mirror refreshing his deodorant and then pulling a grey t shirt over his head. His back muscles rippled deliciously as he did and she wondered all over again how she was going to manage two nights in his bed without assaulting him in her sleep.

Finally with the cups of tea made they sat down together in the chairs looking out over the calming view. There was a comfortable silence for a while. They had spent far too many days, evenings and nights together in the lab at Barts to feel awkward together. Eventually though Molly asked whether Sherlock thought Greg and his fiancée had a chance of staying together.

'Not particularly. He hasn't known her very long. She's recently divorced, skint and looking for a man to give her the children she so desperately wants. He just wants confirmation that he's still attractive and sexually potent following his previous wife's repeated unfaithfulness. I give it less than three years.'

'Oh, but I take it you haven't said anything to him?'

'No, I learnt a while back that telling people the truth about their choice of partner was not a good thing.'

She looked over at him to find he was smiling at her and she suddenly twigged what he was talking about. 'Ah...I take it you're referring to when you told me Jim was gay. Well, I may not have appreciated it at the time but me getting out of THAT relationship was probably one of my better decisions. I may not have said it before but thank you for that.'

He nodded his head slightly in acknowledgement. 'So you think I should tell Lestrade to break things off then?'

'God no,' barked Molly, nearly spilling her tea down herself. 'No, definitely not. Anyway you might be wrong, they might make it work.'

'And what about you Molly? You seem to have stopped dating since you broke it off with....Tom? A wise decision by the way, he would have driven you mad, too nice....far too nice and I don't use that word in a kind way I mean he was boring.'

Molly frowned wanting to disagree with him and stick up for Tom but when it came down to it he was spot on. Tom was too nice and she had been bored.

'I haven't stopped dating I just haven't found anyone to...' She stopped suddenly as she realised she had been about to say compare to you.

He glanced at her as she stumbled over her words trying to fill the gap. 'Maybe it's for the best Molly, you never had good taste in men...and yes I include myself in that.' He glanced at his watch and sighed. 'I suppose we ought to go and meet the others. Any idea what tonight will entail?'

'I suspect eating, lots of drinking and having fun.'

'Great, I can't think of anything I'll enjoy less.'

Molly laughed. 'Yes you can...how about a night out with your brother...or your parents?'

'OK, you're right. It could be worse. Come on then Molly Hooper, if you're lucky I may even buy you a drink or two.'

He picked up a leather jacket and Molly swore if he put it on she might actually spontaneously combust but she followed suit and grabbed her own coat and bag and followed him out of the room.

'Be careful Sherlock people might think you're plying me with alcohol to get me into your bed.'

'No need, it seems that that one is a given for the next two nights regardless of how many drinks I buy you.'

'Yes but too many might leave me with no inhibitions and wandering hands.'

Just then John and Mary's door opened and Mary appeared with John behind her. 'Sorry, what was that about wandering hands? Are they yours or Sherlock's?'

John laughed. 'That'll be Sherlock's. I take it he told you about the Geek case then?'

'John!' Sherlock's voice held a warning tone that just made John laugh. 'Sorry, I just assumed from that...'

'Well don't assume, you're no good at it.'

Molly let John follow Sherlock and she and Mary brought up the rear chatting about the night ahead and their need for food. The others were already in the bar when they arrived and there was the pleasant sound of chatter as various conversations took place whilst drinks were being poured and passed to the right person.

Molly found herself with yet another white wine, that Sherlock had ordered for her, and she knew she needed to eat soon before the alcohol from the journey and now made her too tipsy.

Sherlock meanwhile found himself with both a beer from Greg and a whiskey from John but he good-humouredly downed the whiskey before starting on his pint. 

Greg was worst off with two pints and two whiskeys in front of him and it wasn't long before the group, minus Sherlock, started chanting 'down in one, down in one'. Greg laughed and waved his hands to try to shut them up before picking up one of the pints and valiantly trying to do as they'd asked. He managed about three quarters before putting the glass down and wiping his mouth. 'Oh, I'm too old and out of practice for this.' The others booed and laughed but didn't press the point; they all just wanted some light hearted fun. 

Molly sat with Mary and watched on as some of the guys started to dress Greg in a pink sequinned Stetson and a matching feather boa. 

'So, how are you and Sherlock getting on? Looking forward to two nights in his bed....you can thank me later for refusing to swap.'

Molly tried to look angry but couldn't keep up the pretence. 'Yes, thanks for that.' She muttered sarcastically. 'Did you know I'd be sharing with him?'

'Me, no, why would you ever think such a thing?'

'Don't try and look innocent with me, this kind of trick would be just up your street.'

Mary laughed. 'Well you're not wrong there. Honestly, I give it five drinks and he'll be all yours. I give you two.'

'Mary!' Molly laughed but couldn't help glancing over at Sherlock who was sat on one of the bar stools a bit removed from the others and watching the proceedings. He noticed her and raised his glass before drinking and she followed suit.

'See, he likes you, he just doesn't realise it yet.' Whispered Mary behind her.

Molly turned back to her friend. 'No, don't. Don't do that Mary. I don't want to get my hopes up only to have them crushed again. We're friends, good friends even and that's enough. I don't need more.'

'Maybe you don't need it but you want it.'

Molly shrugged. 'Wanting and getting are two different things though. Anyway Lestrade's cousin is pretty hot and I hear he's single. Maybe it won't be Sherlock's bed I end up in.'

She laughed at her friends faux horror struck face but they both took a sneaky look at Duncan before collapsing into a fit of giggles.

A moment later Molly became aware of movement as Sherlock slid onto the low stool next to hers, his long legs awkwardly bent to fit under the table. 'I wouldn't if I were you.'

'Wouldn't what?'

'Go after Lestrade's cousin. He might tell the world he's single but he's not. He's gay but not publicly so and he's carrying on an affair with a married man. Don't get me wrong he'd bed you to keep up the pretence of being single and straight but I think you deserve more than that don't you Molly?'

Molly knew she was blushing. 'Oh...umm...yes, I suppose so. But how did you...'

'Please, the way you and Mary were giggling and staring, it didn't need my skills to work out you were talking about making a play for him.' He leant forward and whispered in her ear, 'stick with me, you'll be far safer...anyway,' he pulled away and started to stand, 'another drink?'

Molly just managed to nod her head as he picked up her empty glass and went back to the bar. She looked round to see where Mary had got to only to find her stood with John. Mary raised her glass to her friend and winked before turning back to her husband.

Molly tried to take a moment to calm her heart rate. When Sherlock had whispered in her ear it had been as though her whole body was magnetically drawn to him. She could feel his heat, his breath on her skin and his hand on her knee, albeit momentarily, and it had awakened her desire for him all over again.

She wanted to feel his lips on hers, his hands on her skin, the weight of him pressing her into the mattress as he moved against her. She closed her eyes and groaned before snapping them open as she heard Sherlock putting the glasses down on the table.

He didn't say anything about her groan instead he indicated to the other table. 'So tell me Molly is this your first stag night?'

She appreciated his change in subject and nodded her head. 'Yes, I've been to plenty of hen nights, most of which were hideous, but this is my first stag do. How about you?.....I mean, I know you went on John's but any others?'

'No, that was the only one and as you no doubt heard it didn't go well. I don't know how we got our calculations so wrong Molly? I was certain we'd took everything into account.'

She laughed. 'Don't tell me you haven't figured it out.'

He frowned and tilted his head to one side. 'Obviously I haven't so why don't you enlighten me.'

Molly bit her lip to try to stop herself from giggling at his disgruntlement over not knowing. 'John spiked both your drinks. Probably put vodka in or something so you wouldn't taste it.'

Sherlock thought for a moment and then narrowed his eyes as he glanced over at John. 'Hmm, maybe tonight is payback night. What do you think Molly?'

She put a hand on his thigh wondering if he would brush her off but he didn't seem to notice. 'I'd say just leave it. If he gets so drunk he can't perform Mary may well shoot you again.'

His frown deepened. 'Perform?...Ah...sex, you do mean sex don't you?'

She tried not to shiver at hearing him say the word sex. 'Yes, that what I meant. Now come on we need to drink up, looks like we're moving on.' The others were starting to stand and put on jackets with talk of going on to the curry house that they had booked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like they're well on their way to tipsy...how long to all out drunk? I don't know about other countries but here a stag night wouldn't be complete without a curry. Let me know some of your traditions.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock found himself in a thoughtful mood as they made their way along the sea front to the Indian restaurant. He watched Molly walking on ahead, her arms linked with Mary and John. Her head was turned towards them and he could see a look of pure joy on her face. Her eyes were shining, her mouth upturned in a smile...she looked radiant. It was that which was confusing him.

Maybe it was the informal setting, his low expectations of the weekend that Molly was subverting. He just...he hadn't expected to actually enjoy himself but he was and it was all down to her and it worried him.

It worried him because he realised that his thoughts so far this evening had been anything but friendly. He had been uncharacteristically anxious about her focusing any attention on Duncan, he had thoroughly enjoyed their conversations and he could still feel where she had put her hand on his thigh. He felt, unreasonably, as though she had branded him. 

He knew he ought to take care, to avoid her and talk to some of the others or better still cry off on some excuse and go back to London. But.....

And there it was the "but". But he didn't want to. He wanted to just give in and enjoy himself with these people that he found himself calling his friends...well most of them anyway.

Lestrade held back from the others and waited for Sherlock to catch up with him. 'Come on Sherlock, keep up. You look as though you have a thousand things on your mind. Chill out for once in your life. You're not on a case now.'

'No, but maybe I should be, it would be far better use of my time.'

'Listen mate I know this kind of weekend isn't your thing but...well...I just wanted to say that I appreciate you coming along anyway. And you never know, maybe it'll be better than you think it will be. We've even got puzzles for you to solve in tomorrow's scavenger hunt...Stamford wrote them for us so even I don't know what they are.'

Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'Well I'm sure that will make all the difference...trying to solve riddles written by a London based, middle aged, unfit pathologist.'

'You're a miserable bugger aren't you? What you need is a couple more drinks inside you to loosen you up. Don't worry though I won't let you get arrested this time....at least I'll try not.'

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

Two hours later and Molly thought she might die. The burning in her mouth and throat was only getting worse. She was sure she must be bright red, sweating and looking generally awful. She'd already taken off her shirt, tying it around her waist, leaving herself just wearing her jeans and camisole top and she knew she'd drunk at least two pints of water; but none of it was helping. In the end she stood up and excused herself; going through to the bathroom to splash water on her face before going outside for a breath of fresh air.

She leant against the wall and let the cooler night air wash over her ignoring the wolf whistle from a couple of guys walking down the street opposite. She heard the door to the curry house open and almost groaned as Sherlock came over to join her.

'I know you told me not to go for the vindaloo but there's no need to rub it in.'

He frowned. 'Why would I feel the need to do that Molly? It's more than obvious that you regret your decision without me pointing it out. No, I came to give you this.'

He handed her a tall thin glass with a thick creamy liquid in it. 'Lassi, it's yoghurt based. Good for cooling your mouth and calming your stomach if the food is too hot.'

She took it from him gratefully already feeling guilty for snapping at him. Only to immediately feel irritated again as he took a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one.

'I thought you'd given up.'

He shrugged. 'Some days I have, some days I haven't. Figured I might need a pack to help me through this weekend. Fancy a drag? I know you used to smoke.'

'No, I'm fine thanks I hate how you can taste them when you kiss someone.'

He smirked and leant against the wall with one shoulder as he looked down at her. 'I wasn't planning on kissing anyone tonight...how about you?'

Molly took another soothing sip of her drink and wished he wasn't wearing that black leather biker jacket. He looked amazing in it and it distracted her every time she looked at him. Worse thing was she knew he could probably see her arousal and that then embarrassed her even more. She could only hope he put her red face down to the curry.

'Well, I mean...you never know do you.' 

He raised one eyebrow and she continued. 'Alright, well maybe you do but I might want to kiss someone and not taste like an ashtray.'

She watched as he inhaled and then slowly blew out the smoke in a steady stream up into the sky and she felt her stomach flip over at the definition it gave his jawbone. Smoking might be bad for him but why did it have to make him look so goddamn sexy.

'I told you Molly stick with me it's safer.'

'Yes, but I won't want to kiss you now because you'll taste of smoke.' She smiled as she said it thinking maybe she'd verbally won that sparring match. That was until he flicked the cigarette away and leant towards her until his face was an inch from hers. She saw his eyes move to her lips and his tongue wetting his own and for a moment she wondered if he was actually going to kiss her....and God she wanted him too.

'Thing is Molly, you'd kiss me regardless of whether I taste like an ashtray. And I can promise you it would still be the best kiss you've ever had.'

There was another beat of silence before Molly pulled away feeling hurt and stunned. She hadn't expected that level of cruelty from him, not now, not when they were in such a good place.

She made to go back into the restaurant and he must have realised he'd gone too far because he caught her arm and pulled her back around to face him. 'Molly, I didn't mean to...'

She shook her head and pulled her arm away. 'Don't Sherlock. I don't know why I expected more from you. I was right the first time. You always say such hurtful things....always, and it looks like tonight's no different.' With that she stalked back into the building.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH 

Sherlock waited outside knowing that the others wouldn't be long. He had to admit the whole incident had left him feeling even more confused and unsettled. Not least because for a moment there he had genuinely considered kissing her and he was a little disappointed that he hadn't.

Above all else though he hadn't meant to hurt her or be cruel, though when he thought back over the conversation he could easily see how it had been construed that way. He needed to make it right and fast but apologies weren't his strong point.

It seemed Molly was having similar thoughts though because as the others all left the restaurant and started to walk towards the sea front she fell into step besides him. 

'Listen Sherlock, I know you didn't mean to be cruel. Maybe I overreacted....I don't know...but I don't want an atmosphere over this weekend so can we just forget it happened?'

He put his hand on her arm stopping her for a moment so she turned towards him. 'I mean it when I say I'm sorry Molly. You're right...I...I didn't think and I really didn't mean to hurt you. I was just trying to be jokey and it came out wrong, I'm sorry.' For the third time in her life Molly received a kiss on the cheek from him. She closed her eyes and wished the moment could last forever as his lips touched her skin and she felt him close but he soon pulled away.

'Come on, we'd best catch up.'

As they neared the pier Mary fell into step besides them both and linked her arm through his telling Molly to do the same on his other side. 'We need to make him look like a real boy. After all he's wearing the clothes so it must be the image he's going for.'

Sherlock grunted. 'John insisted I go for casual.'

'But what's with this jacket Sherlock, it's not your normal style. How come we haven't seen it before?'

'Yes, well it seems my Belstaff is as recognisable on me as that ridiculous deerstalker hat that I've been lumbered with. I bought this for times when I want to be more incognito.'

Mary laughed causing Sherlock to glower at her. 'I fail to see why that's funny.'

She shook her head. 'It's not really. It's just you look ridiculously hot in that jacket, it does not let you fly under the radar....not one jot, you'd get noticed by every female from 16 to 65 and maybe even older. Seriously, in that jacket you're turning ME on.'

'You know I'm right here don't you Mary? I can hear every word,' grumbled John turning and walking backwards in front of them for a moment.

Mary waved him off. 'Oh get over yourself I didn't say I'd actually sleep with him. Just treating him as visual foreplay that's all.'

With that Mary let go of Sherlock's arm and linked with John instead laughing as he continued to complain.

Sherlock was still frowning as they made their way onto the pier walking around the outside of the amusement arcade to get to the fun fair at the end.

Molly realised they were still linking arms but she was in no rush to separate herself from him. It was quite pleasant pretending she was his girlfriend even if she did look too plain next to him. She soon noticed though that he was deep in thought and in the end she asked what was bothering him.

'Well, she's not right is she? I mean I'm fairly average...I thought this was an inconspicuous outfit.'

He turned his head seeking Molly's opinion. 'Umm...well, she's not wrong. That jacket does look particularly good on you.'

'Hmm, I don't think I've fully taken into account the impact of clothing on people, maybe I need to do some research.'

By this time they were starting to walk past various stalls; all the things that Molly remembered from her childhood visits to the seaside; hook a duck, hoopla, the shooting range. It was on the latter stall that she spotted a cuddly toy in the form of a fluffy ginger cat.

'Oh, look Sherlock. This looks just like my Toby.'

He took one look. 'Umm, no it doesn't.'

But Molly was already reaching up and turning the toy this way and that, feeling how soft the fake fur was.

'Looks like you need to win it for your missus, mate.'

Sherlock frowned. 'She's not my missus and I'm not your mate.'

'Ooh touchy ain't ya. Well if I had a girl that beautiful on my arm I'd make her my missus in a flash.'

Molly knew it was just patter but she blushed and smiled at the stall holder anyway. 

'Go on mate, take a look and tell 'er 'ow pretty she is. She deserves to know that one does.'

Sherlock narrowed his eyes but turned his head as though assessing Molly. 'Molly already knows I think she's attractive, I've told her many times.'

Now it was Molly's turn to frown. 'Err, no you haven't.'

'What?'

'You haven't ever told me I was attractive. A few fake compliments early on but that's all.'

Sherlock seemed to think for a moment. 'I thought I had, I must have imagined it. It seems I do that some times. Well anyway you are...attractive that is. I've always thought you beautiful.'

'Oh,' Molly was so shocked she was speechless but the stall holder wasn't letting Sherlock get away that easily. 

'Best way to tell 'er is to show 'er. And what better way than to win 'er the toy she wants. Don't worry if you haven't 'andled a gun before it's easy enough.'

It was the latter part of that sentence more than the former that had Sherlock bridling and putting down some money even as he picked up the air rifle which was chained to the stall. 

The man handed him some pellets. 'You'll need to make nine clean shots that knock the target down to win 'er that cat.'

Molly hadn't noticed that John and Mary had joined them until Mary chimed in. 'Sure you don't want me to take over Sherlock.'

'Yes, perfectly sure.' He fired then smiled as the first target went down.

Mary turned to John. 'What do you want me to win for you?' 

John huffed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 'Nothing thanks. I'm more than capable of winning something for myself if I wanted anything.'

In the end it took Sherlock three attempts before he managed nine in a row and Molly finally took possession of the cat. He gritted his teeth and ignored Mary gloatingly telling him she could have saved him money if only he'd took her up on her offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the shooting ranges at the fair, one of the few things I'm actually good at. What do we think, should the men have ignored their male pride and let Mary win the prizes for them?


	4. Chapter 4

There was brief talk of going on the dodgems or the big wheel both of which were situated at the end of the pier but the draw of the pub proved too much and they made their way inside the dark, noisy interior instead.

Sherlock couldn't believe they were all still wanting more alcohol though he didn't refuse his drink when it was given to him, anything to dull the events of the evening. What he really needed was peace and quiet; to be able to order his thoughts and get his errant feelings under control, but it seemed that was not to be; at least not yet.

Greg had got away with not wearing his pink Stetson and feather boa in the curry house but they'd been bagged and brought and they were dragged out now. They also had an L plate for his back which had been crossed out and the words OAP written on instead. Sherlock just rolled his eyes as he spotted the prophylactics that had been stapled to the sign and rather than join in he spent some time leaning against the bar surveying the patrons, most of which seemed to be either on a similar weekend or of the criminal variety.

He even spotted a prowling rapist and managed to take a surreptitious photo on his phone which he sent to both the police and security on the pier. It was satisfying seeing the latter arrive within five minutes, surveying the crowd before quietly and subtly moving in.

As the man was being escorted out John came over. 'What are you up to? Or should I say what have you been up to....is that man being arrested?'

'Not yet but I believe the police will be waiting for him at the entrance to the pier; serial rapist, they're bound to have DNA to link him to multiple crimes.'

'You know you're supposed to be enjoying yourself, not working.'

Sherlock turned to him with a disdainful look. 'Would you have me let a monster like that walk free and possibly rape again tonight? How would you feel if that were Molly or Mary?'

John shrugged and held his hands up in surrender. 'You're right, of course you're right. I'm sorry. Just, well, I feel a bit guilty for dragging you here if you're not enjoying yourself.'

'As well you should,' but then he rolled his eyes and relented, smiling at his friend. 'Oh don't worry John it's not that bad. Maybe another drink will help.' He held out his empty glass and laughed as John grumbled.

It was soon after that that poor Greg was accosted by a hen party which had recently come in. The hen was pushed in his direction with calls for them to kiss and make the most of their last night's of freedom. Sherlock could tell that Greg was just being polite as he smiled at her and kissed her on the cheek but that the hen, who had very roving hands, was most definitely up for more.

It made him wonder once more about the ridiculousness of most marriages nowadays. If this girl was so in love with her fiancé why would she want a one night stand with a stranger? 

The groups moved towards the dance floor situated at the back of the pub as the hen pulled Greg towards it by his boa.

Sherlock found himself watching Molly once more. She was laughing and taking a couple of photos as were the others but he could tell she wasn't really engaged with this behaviour. 

He downed his double scotch, courtesy of John, and closed his eyes feeling the burn in his throat and the alcohol coursing through his system. His brain was definitely dulling and his body becoming more enamoured with the music and the physical desires he kept locked within himself. It was a mini high, not completely unlike some that the drugs gave him. He felt freer, free from thoughts and his normal restrictions.

He opened his eyes to see that Mary had now dragged John off onto the dance floor and his Molly was being harassed by a drunken twenty year old who was being rather too free with his hands.

Without even thinking about it he moved behind him and pulled him violently by his collar away from Molly. The guy twisted round in Sherlock's grasp his hand already fisting ready to punch him. 'What the fuck is your problem?'

Sherlock released him. 'My problem is you. I think it was more than obvious that my friend wasn't interested. And why would she be? You dropped out of uni, have no job and are currently sleeping on a friend's sofa because your parents kicked you out; fed up with your lies, thieving and drug use.'

As this was taking place he could feel Molly pulling on his arm and telling him to leave it but he was enjoying himself far too much to stop there. 

'You haven't had a girl in what three....no six months and your mates think you're a loser as is evidenced by the fact that they are, even now, leaving without you.'

With this the guy looked around him and then stood on his tiptoes to see over the crowd towards the front door where his friends were indeed departing. For a moment Sherlock could see he was wondering whether to just swing a punch and he turned his body slightly to protect Molly but Gregson and Hopkins appeared and, realising he was outnumbered, the lad just threw a last 'frigid bitch' in Molly's direction before slipping away.

Sherlock nodded his thanks to the two detectives before turning to Molly. He expected some appreciation from her but was confused when all he saw was anger.

She poked his chest with her index finger. 'What the hell was that? I was more than capable of telling that guy to get lost; I've done it more times than I care to remember. I did not need you causing a scene and going all cave man on me.'

Sherlock swayed a little and narrowed his eyes. All he could think was how glorious she looked when she was angry. He was starting to feel more than a little tipsy as he watched her, knowing she was talking to him but just not registering the words.

'Sherlock....are you even listening to a word I'm saying?' She waved a hand in front of his face and rolled her eyes when he didn't respond. 'Typical,' she said to herself as she turned to look at the dancers.

'Sorry, what's typical?' 

She turned back to look at him and just like that her anger evaporated, he'd only been looking out of her which was kind of sweet.

'Nothing, doesn't matter.' She turned back to the dance floor and Sherlock followed her gaze before looking back at Molly.

'You want to dance.' It was a statement rather than a question so she didn't feel the need to respond and she certainly wasn't intending to dance alone.

He held his hand out to her. 'Come on then.'

She looked in shock from his hand to his face. 'What...with you?'

A 'V' formed between his eyes. 'Yes, why is that so odd?'

'I...I don't know. I just never saw you as a dancer.'

'Well, I am so come on.' 

This time he just took her hand and started to pull her to the dance floor. All Molly could do was find a spot for her empty glass and take a quick moment to realise they were really doing this before he spun her around to face him and placed his hands on her waist.

The music was quite fast and the dance floor crowded so Molly found herself pressed up a bit closer than she would have expected. He was also a far better dancer than she would have imagined. His body moving perfectly in time with the music. In the absence of anywhere else to really put her hands they had come to rest on his chest and she could feel his heart beat under her right hand, his breath against her cheek and his hands burning into her waist through her thin top.

The dancing, the loud music and the alcohol were all combining in Molly's mind to make her a lot less inhibited than she would normally have been and she took the opportunity to move her hands across his body. One hand ended up around his neck, her fingers playing with his curls and the other went to his arm where she could feel his muscles under his bare skin. It had been too hot in there for him to keep the jacket on and whilst she had regretted seeing him take it off being able to touch his skin more than made up for it.

They moved well together and as the tempo of the music started to change and slow they seemed to move imperceptibly closer to each other until eventually she rested the side of her face on his chest. Now she could hear his heart beat and smell the very essence of him. She closed her eyes and willed the moment never to end. She could stay here, on this dance floor, wrapped in Sherlock's arms forever and die happy.

Sherlock was similarly conflicted. He hadn't expected dancing with Molly to feel so good, so sensual. She felt slight and petite in his arms and he felt something unfamiliar unfurl in his chest, was it protectiveness...he couldn't quite put his finger on it but, like her, he was reluctant to pull away, to end the moment, even as his mind told him that's what he should be doing.

He could feel every point that his body touched hers and each time her hands moved on him he felt his nerves quivering and reacting until he realised with a shock that he was getting hard. It was that realisation more than anything else which had him pulling away. 

She looked up at him shyly before following him off the dance floor. He needed a distraction, needed to normalise their relationship back onto an even keel. 'Another drink Molly?'

She took a breath. 'I'd better not, I think maybe I've had enough. Maybe just a water.'

He nodded, and went to order, finding Greg and his cousin at the bar also. Greg seemed unaware that he had various shades of lipstick across his face.

'Hey Sherlock, you and Molly seemed very cosy on the dance floor. Anything you're not telling us?'

'Such as?'

'I don't know, maybe you have feelings for her or something?' 

'No,' he immediately knew that he had answered to loud and too fast but it seemed Greg was too drunk to pick up on it and he just waved his hand placatingly, 'alright, alright keep your hair on, I was only joking. We both know you wouldn't know what to do with a woman even if she was naked in your bed.'

Greg and Duncan both laughed at his comment but Sherlock just scowled. 'I think you'll find I know exactly what to do in the bedroom. Let's just say I've never had any complaints.' 

Even as he said the words he knew it was the alcohol talking, he should have just ignored them. It wasn't that he wasn't telling the truth it was more that....

'So, you have had sex then, tell us more?'

....that it would lead to this. More questions, more curiosity.

'Boring. So when are we leaving?'

'Probably after this drink, I think I've had enough and I certainly don't want to run into any more hen do's they're fucking scary. We can always have a night cap back at the hotel.'

As Sherlock carried Molly's water back to her he remembered the fact that he would be sharing a bed with her that night. Under the circumstances maybe getting both drunk and aroused hadn't been the wisest choice but he was going to have to live with it now and try to make sure he didn't get either more drunk or more aroused as that would only lead to trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not saying what's going to happen in the next chapter but it might...just might involve Sherlock getting more drunk and more aroused :).


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, where were we? Oh yes, that's right watching Sherlock and Molly getting drunk and aroused.

Sherlock's ambitions were being thwarted. John buying him another scotch before they left the pub and his complete lack of will power to say no to it meant that as he hit the fresh air his brain seemed to disconnect from his body floating somewhere above it but not quite in control any more. His only consolation, when photos appeared in the coming days, was that everyone else was in as bad, if not worse, a state than he was. 

Greg and his cousin had their arms wrapped around each other's shoulders and were singing 80's songs as they caroused their way down the pier. Sally and Anderson seemed to have disappeared and no one knew or cared where and Gregson and Hopkins had decided to stay on at the bar in the hopes of pulling one or more of the girls on the various hen parties.

The only relatively sober person was Mary who seemed to have drunk as much as they had but without suffering the consequences. 

Molly meanwhile had staggered as she'd left the pub and was now at Sherlock's side with his arm around her waist to stop her falling over....or was she stopping him from falling over, he wasn't quite sure. All he knew was the pier seemed never ending as he squinted into the distance trying to see the exit. 

Finally though they made it back to the B&B where the landlord was patiently waiting up for them to offer them a night cap. Sherlock knew he should say no and just go to bed but heard his own voice joyfully shouting...saying. 'Why not? One more can't hurt.'

They sat in the bar and Molly seemed to have ended up on his lap though he wasn't sure how. She was holding her toy cat and had her hand on his cheek. 'You're so sweet, when did you get so sweet?'

He frowned knowing that something wasn't right but not sure he could quite put his finger on it. He could do this, he was a detective....a consulting detective....that was better.

'Worlds only...'

John's face swam into view at the side of him. 'World's only what?'

'Me, I am. Sweet, that's it. No, hang on, I'm not sweet I'm......'

'An arse,' quipped John.

'A wanker,' added Mary.

'No, don't be mean, he's my hero. He won me my kitty.'

Sherlock smiled at Molly whose face seemed closer. Had she always been this pretty?

She shifted on his lap and he became aware that he was still suffering some level of arousal which was only getting worse with each movement she made, especially when she swivelled around 180 degrees to reach for her drink. 

He brought his hands up to her waist to try to still her but she leant back against his chest. She felt so light, her waist so slim under his hands. He hummed in appreciation.

He must have nodded off briefly because the next thing he was aware of was Mary talking to him. He reluctantly opened his eyes to see Mary, with Greg close behind her. 'Come on Sherlock. Time for bed; let's get you upstairs.'

Two strong hands pulled him to his feet and he grumbled trying to shake them off. 'I can stand. Leave me alone.'

He heard Mary behind him asking Molly if she was still OK sharing with him. He didn't hear her reply though as he seemed to need all his concentration just to get up the stairs...he didn't remember them being so steep.

Eventually they made it to the top floor where Greg and Duncan left him leaning against his bedroom door, saying their good nights and making their way back downstairs. He heard Greg muttering something about him not being able to hold his drink and how it wasn't the first time but by the time he'd formulated a scathing come back they'd gone.

As Molly opened the door he more or less fell backwards through it. His dignity only saved by the fact that he managed to stagger a step or two and fell onto the bed rather than the floor.

He let out a loud groan and stared at the ceiling which seemed to be moving in sickening circles. 

Vaguely he heard the door shut and Molly climbed up onto the bed at the side of him. 'You OK?'

He smiled at her again. 'My Molly....always looking out for me. Why are you always there for me Molly?'

She put her hand on his chest to help balance herself as she kicked her shoes off. 'Coz you're hot, that's why.'

He frowned; he wasn't sure why his temperature was a factor. He looked back at Molly who was removing her shirt. 'What are you doing?'

'Getting ready for bed. Aren't you?'

Sherlock wasn't sure. If it meant he had to get up then no, he had no intention of getting ready for bed, he was already on it. 

'Come on, lift up and I'll take your jacket off.' 

He did as she asked and with a bit of awkward tugging she did manage to get his jacket off him. He had to admit it was comfier. 

He lifted one foot up and she shimmied down to unlace his boot and tug it off his foot before repeating the move with his other foot.

His hand went to the buckle of his jeans and he finally managed to undo the belt and fastenings lifting his bum up as she tugged on them, gradually pulling them down his legs and hearing them land with a thud onto the floor.

It was after a minute's silence that he lifted his head up to see what had happened to Molly but she just seemed to be sat, knelt up at his side, staring at his groin. He glanced down and realised that he still had evidence of his earlier arousal and as he thought about it he knew it was only getting more and more obvious.

Molly was biting her lip and her eyes moved slowly back up his body to his face. 'Erm...want some help with that too?'

His conscious mind swam, he knew what he ought to say, what he ought to do but he did and said none of those things. Instead he just nodded.

Molly's eyes went back to his erection and slowly she brought her hand up to rest on it and he felt his hips jerk up towards her involuntarily as he rubbed himself, through his shorts, against her grasp. He ached to have her do more. 

She pulled his shorts down enough for her to wrap her hand around him and she tentatively stroked him. 

Sherlock closed his eyes and just gave into the feeling of someone else touching him for the first time in years. The sensations rushing through his body were indescribable but it magnified ten fold when he felt his cock enveloped by her mouth. 

He groaned loudly and half sat up his hands immediately tangling in her hair. Her mouth felt so amazingly warm and wet and inviting. 'Fuck....Molly...God, I can't, I can't.'

She sat up, releasing his erection and he immediately wanted that warmth back. She looked at him with hurt eyes and started to apologise as she slid off the bed. She was leaving....but he didn't want her to leave! He reached forward catching her arm and pulling her to him until his lips could reach hers. 

It wasn't a practiced kiss, their teeth clashed and it was desperate and awkward but he didn't care. In that moment he didn't care he just wanted more. His hands were already reaching for the base of her camisole and they stopped kissing only long enough for him to pull it over her head and throw it to the floor then his hands were unfastening her jeans even as her breasts rubbed against his arms. He wanted to touch her everywhere all at the same time.

Again, they broke their kiss whilst she shimmied out of her jeans, taking her knickers off with them, then he pulled her on top of him; feeling her weight and her wetness on his aching cock. It only took a moment for him to position himself and then she was sliding down onto him.

Somewhere deep inside himself he could almost hear Mycroft remonstrating with him, calling him out on his loss of control and his lack of resilience against his baser needs but the alcohol was like a blanket over his mind. The only thing he wanted to concentrate on was this woman moving with him, bringing him the climax he so desperately wanted. 

He brought his mouth to her breast and let his tongue roll over her hard nipple relishing the taste of her. He bit down just enough to hear her groan in response and it sent shudders down through her body and made him pulse inside her. He knew he wasn't going to last long but he could tell that Molly was close and even though he was drunk he still wanted her to have her pleasure as much as he was having his. 

He moved his mouth back to her neck and used his hands to knead her backside, pressing her against him so her clit was fully stimulated. He could hear himself talking to her. 'Yes, God Molly you feel so wet, I need you to come, I want to feel it, God you feel good.' 

It wasn't long before he felt her muscles clenching around him and she started to call his name over and over. His own feelings were overtaking him now and he squeezed his eyes shut giving into physical sensations as his balls tightened deliciously before he gave a final thrust which had him pumping his seed deep within her. It was quite simply the most amazing feeling in the world and he couldn't remember why he'd ever given it up.

Molly collapsed on top of him kissing him once more but this time it was slower and more measured. A kiss that left him tired and sated as he let his body relax into the bed and sleep wash over him.

Before they fully fell asleep they managed to manoeuvre themselves under the covers and Molly cuddled up against him with her head on his chest and his arms wrapped around her. He wondered how he would feel in the morning, not convinced he wasn't going to regret it but too tired to worry too much now.

Hours later and with sunlight starting to stream through the curtains he woke up with a shock as there was a loud knocking on their door. 

'Sherlock...Molly, come on, time for breakfast. You have about twenty minutes before they stop serving. You coming?'

'Yes John I'll be down in five, now go away.'

It was then that he realised with a sickening jolt that he was tangled up naked with an equally nude Molly Hooper and his head was pounding with dehydration and a sickening hangover. What the hell had he done last night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh so the morning after the night before! What do you want their reactions to be like?


	6. Chapter 6

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, before looking down at Molly who was starting to wake up herself. As she opened her eyes and looked up at him he saw her take a similar intake of breath before muttering 'oh fuck' and sitting up holding the duvet against her naked breasts.

'Oh God, what did we do last night Sherlock?'

'I think we both know the answer to that one. I don't know about you but before I worry about it too much I need coffee and lots of it. Maybe we can think about what we did when we're both feeling a bit more human. Do you want the bathroom first?'

She shook her head. 'No, you go ahead.'

He looked at the covers and at the bathroom door but then shook his head slightly. He'd never been shy and there was really no point starting now so he threw back the covers and walked naked across the room. From the slight gasp behind him he gathered that Molly had really not expected him to do that. 

He entered the bathroom and started up the shower. He'd feel better after a wash and a coffee...at least he hoped he would.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

Molly watched as Sherlock walked to the door of the bathroom. They may have engaged in sex the night before but that in no way made the sight of him naked any less shocking.

As he closed the door she fell back against the pillows and tried to remember exactly what had happened the night before. It really didn't help that her head was banging and that she worried she might actually throw up.

Snippets of memory came back to her. The lights on the pier, winning the toy, dancing with Sherlock, laughing with Mary and feeling Sherlock biting down on her nipple just before she came. She let out a quiet groan.

She wished her memories of sleeping with him were clearer because she suspected it was never going to be repeated, the look of shock on his face had kind of told her how he felt. She had no regrets though...at least not over the sex, she'd had one night stands before and at least this had been with someone she liked. A voice in her head muttered that she more than liked him and that this was dangerous territory but she squashed it back down. What's done is done, isn't that what her dad always used to say.

No, her regrets were over how much alcohol she'd had. She moved to the edge of the bed and leant over looking for her bag, quickly spotting it and dragging it too her so she could find the aspirin she'd brought. She took a couple and was about to lie back down when she realised Sherlock would be out soon and if she wasn't quick she'd have to make it to the bathroom wrapped in the duvet, which would be embarrassingly shy of her after he'd strolled there butt naked....oh and what a fine backside he had. She would cherish the memory of seeing it naked and tuck it away in her mind to bring out each time he came to Barts in those lusciously tight trousers.

She quickly scooted off the bed and rummaged around in her case. She didn't have time for a shower before breakfast so she quickly dressed and was just putting her hair up when Sherlock came out wrapped in a towel. 

'Bathroom's free...I'll see you downstairs. Want me to order you anything...other than coffee that is?'

'God, yes please I'm starving. Full English with fried eggs.'

'Alright, full English it is...and Molly. Are we OK?'

It wasn't exactly a discussion but Molly didn't know if she wanted to go through an 'it's not you it's me speech' so she nodded her head and smiled, 'yes, we're good.'

By the time she made it down to the breakfast room everyone else was already there and she received a cheer for being last one down; she graciously bowed as she heard it. Thankfully there was a cup of coffee waiting for her on her table for two with Sherlock and as she drank it she could feel her head and stomach starting to calm a little. It was soon helped by the breakfast which was delicious. She wondered out loud regarding what it was about bacon and eggs that soothed a hangover but soon regretted it as Sherlock broke into a monologue about amino acids and various other chemical components which only ended when Mary threw a bread roll at him and told him to shut up.

Greg told them all that the next few hours until just after lunch were free time and that they should meet back here at two for the scavenger hunt. Originally Molly had been planning on going shopping but she wasn't sure she could be bothered. Apparently some of the guys and Sally were off go karting and Sherlock had roped in John to help him investigate an old unsolved crime.

Molly asked him which one as she ate her toast.

'It's one of the 1930's Brighton Trunk murders.'

'Oh you mean the Kaye and Mancini one. I thought he'd admitted to it just before he died.'

'Oh very good Molly, I'm impressed you know that one. How come?'

'Well, Sir Bernard Spilsbury was the pathologist for the case and I studied many of his techniques when I was training. He's a bit archaic now but some of his work was ground breaking at the time. So, I got it right then? That's the case you’re investigating.'

'Ah...no. No, there was another at the same time. A woman's dismembered torso found in a trunk here in Brighton and her legs found in another in London. She was never identified and neither was the killer. I've seen the London evidence and Lestrade has arranged for me to view the case notes and evidence held here in Brighton.'

'Do you do many of these cold cases?'

'A few, they help to pass the time when there is no current work available. Anyway...John, are you ready?'

He stood and chivvied John who had been enjoying his last cup of tea. John soon complained. 'Alright, alright it's not like it's going anywhere is it. Stuff's been in boxes for eighty years.'

John bent and kissed Mary. 'I'll see you later for lunch then. Have fun, no doubt you'll have more than me.'

Sherlock watched him and then turned to Molly with a slightly unsure look on his face. 'Yes, goodbye Molly, until later.'

She smiled. 'Yes...later.'

She watched as he left the room and then took a deep breath, lost in her thoughts as she reminisced once more about the previous night. That was until Mary cleared her throat from the seat opposite; the one that Sherlock had just vacated.

'OK, so do you want to tell me what's going on or do I have to use torture to get it out of you?'

Molly schooled her face and looked at Mary. 'Umm...no, there's nothing going on. What makes you think that?'

'Oh please. The two of you were all over each other here in the bar last night and this morning Sherlock is being strangely polite. It doesn't take a genius to see that something happened.'

Molly laughed, though it felt a little forced. 'No, we were just a bit drunk last night that was all. We slept fine last night and any awkwardness is just over us having to share a room together.'

Mary leant forward and cocked her head to one side. 'OK I didn't want to have to do this but you leave me no choice. If nothing happened last night how come John and I heard you crying out Sherlock's name about twenty minutes after we all went up? And when I say crying out you know what I mean.'

'Oh...' Molly knew she must be bright red. 'Let's get some more coffee and go up to our room. I don't feel like discussing it down here where anyone could listen in.'

A few minutes later they were settled with their drinks in the armchairs in Molly and Sherlock's room. It appeared they'd been more fortunate in their view as John and Mary's room just looked out onto an alley way.

They had opened up the doors and were enjoying the warmth of a new summer's day, hearing the seagulls calling out at they circled overhead. It was very evocative and so very British.

'So, there's not a lot to say. We were both far too drunk and one thing led to another and...well..we had sex. It's not a big deal.'

Mary guffawed. 'Hang on. Mr Asexual or Gay "I'm married to my work" Holmes has sex and it's not that big a deal. Molly this is huge....you know it is...you must know it is.'

Molly opened her mouth to say something but she didn't know what she could say.

'So, how were things this morning, any more activity?'

'No,' she saw Mary's disbelieving face and rolled her eyes. 'Honestly, no. John woke us up hammering on the door.....and anyway, it's obvious he regrets it.'

'Does he? Did he actually say that?'

'Not in so many words but it's not as though it's going to be repeated is it.'

Mary shrugged. 'I don't know, you have another night ahead of you, who knows what might happen? I'm assuming you'd be happy for it to be repeated.'

Molly just raised her eyebrows. 'Do you even need to ask that?'

'So, how was it? Any good?'

'If only I could remember. I'm assuming it was, it was obviously...umm...satisfying. I was way too drunk though Mary. I mean I'm not saying I was beyond consent drunk but I do wish I could remember it more clearly. My one chance at bedding Sherlock and I don't even have clear memories. Life's just not fair.'

'No, you're right there. Just...well, just give it a chance with Sherlock. I still think this is a big deal. There's a reason it was you who broke his duck on the whole abstinence thing. If you managed it once you can manage it again and I don't think it will take that much. He's tasted the forbidden fruit, it won't be that easy for him to forget.'

Molly shook her head disbelievingly as she listened to her strangely optimistic friend but she couldn't help the little bubble of hope which rose up unbidden within her chest. Could she be right, could this spark something in Sherlock? Only time would tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, not a bad reaction from Sherlock but not a positive one either. We'll get to see more of his viewpoint in the next chapter and it will soon be time for the scavenger hunt. Do any of you know Brighton at all? It would be interesting to see if you unravel any of the clues.


	7. Chapter 7

Sherlock made a point of looking out of the cab window, hoping to be able to get out of any conversation with John.

Just like Molly he too was thinking about the night before and he had rarely felt so confused about anything in his life.

He had assumed that he would have regrets; that he would be angry with himself for having 'given in' but all he could think was how amazingly good it had felt. His memory was hazy in places, which was to be expected, but he could remember how right it had felt the moment he had joined with Molly, how fantastically good it had been to be touched and to touch another human being. No..hang on, he stopped himself. Not just any human being...to touch and be touched by Molly. But what did that mean? Before he could make any decisions or conclusions his reverie was broken by John clearing his throat. Sherlock looked round impatiently.

'So, Sherlock, anything you want to talk about?'

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. 'Err....nope.'

'Maybe something happened last night, something unusual, something you need to talk about?'

He knows! How does he know? They heard us....dammit.

'I gather you are talking about the fact that Molly and I engaged in....sex. I don't believe it's that unusual an outcome for two inebriated persons who like each other.'

'Maybe not for mere mortals but this is you we're talking about and you just don't do that kind of thing.'

'Obviously I do because I did.'

'And how do you feel about it?'

Sherlock could feel himself getting angry, why did it always have to come down to feelings......a traitorous voice in his head added because it does.

'I don't feel anything, why would I? It happened; it won't happen again.' He shifted uncomfortably as he said the latter already aware that maybe that was no longer a promise he could make.

Obviously John thought it unrealistic as well. 'Are you sure about that? Let's try a different tack, did you enjoy it?'

Sherlock was quiet for a few moments but he couldn't lie, he didn't want to lie. 'Yes, very much so.'

'So?'

'So what John? It's hardly the start of some epic romance. Have you met me?'

'I have and so has Molly and amazingly, mind-blowingly, she still likes you. So, it could be the start of something...and why not? She's perfect for you and if you can't see that then you're less of a genius than I thought you were.'

Sherlock didn't even deign to answer him, just turned back, staring out of the window once more. But John's words were circling around in his head and he couldn't help but ask himself the question; could they be more, could he start something with Molly? The answer scared him more than he liked to admit, even to himself.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

After her coffee with Mary Molly had indulged in a long, hot shower. At one point she closed her eyes and let her hands slide down from her chest to her stomach, remembering the feel of Sherlock's hands doing the same. For the first time since she'd awoken she felt emotional about what they had done. It was almost like touching the dream only to have it snatched away. Could she really live with the knowledge of what they could be and yet never would? Did she even have a choice?

She bit her lip and refused to cry, crying wouldn't make Sherlock feel, it wouldn't change who he was and he had never been anything but honest with Molly over the last few years. He hadn't led her on or offered her more than he could give. And what happened last night was both their responsibilities, she wouldn't play a blame game.

She felt a little better by the time she was dressed and she called on Mary so the two of them could go for a wander around the shops. There were plenty of quirky independent stores with alternative clothing and jewellery and Mary and Molly passed the morning buying little bits and pieces for themselves and for others.

They met John and Sherlock just before one o'clock at a coffee shop not far from the hotel and, apart from Sherlock, they ordered some food before sitting at one of the outdoor tables watching the world go by.

As Molly ate her panini she became aware that Sherlock was staring at her, though in a slightly unconnected, abstract way, as though his eyes were on her but his mind was elsewhere.

She smiled and waved her hand in front of his face. 'Hey. You OK? You seemed miles away. Did you get what you wanted from the evidence?'

He huffed but his eyes focused on her more clearly. 'In part. The victim was obviously a dancer and she knew her attacker. No doubt he was the lover who impregnated her. I suspect he was already married and when she told him of the pregnancy he killed her so his infidelity wouldn't be known. She'd known him for a while though so either she was based in one place, which was unusual for a dancer at that time, they tended to be itinerant or he travelled with the troop either as an entertainer or as the manager. I suspect the latter but can't prove it yet. It's given me plenty to review when I get back to Baker St anyway.'

'Good, I'm glad. If you need my help with anything just say.'

He was about to query what help she could possibly give him when he stopped himself. She was just being Molly, just being there for him as she always had been. But would she always be there for him going forward? He found he couldn't answer that categorically. Chances were she would meet someone else, fall in love...wasn't that what people did....have children and give up work, reduce their hours, maybe even leave London....he frowned not liking any of those scenarios and the thought of someone else touching his Molly had bile rising in his throat.

Something in his thoughts picked at his brain. He went back over them, there was something there....oh! When had she become his Molly?

'Sherlock, Bloody hell Sherlock...come on, snap out of it. We need to meet the others for the scavenger hunt. Mary and Molly have gone on ahead.'

Sherlock scowled at his best friend but followed him back towards the B&B. He needed to think, to order his mind, this weekend was wreaking havoc with his emotions and his sense of himself.

As they walked into the bar in the B&B Greg passed them both a whiskey and indicated for them to take a seat.

'What's this for?' Grumbled Sherlock, as he held up the drink.

'Hair of the dog mate thought it would help to get people's mind lubricated for the hunt ahead.'

Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'I hardly think alcohol is the best thing for brain work but I'm sure I'll win anyway so...' He downed the drink in one and closed his eyes relishing the burn. Greg was right with one thing, it did help to chase off the last remnants of his hangover.

'Right, are we all here?' Greg totted up how many of them there were and then nodded his head. 'So, I'm sure you know the drill. We're in teams of two, I figured pairs based on room allocation was the easiest. We each get a sheet with the clues and you have two hours to get as many of the items on the list as possible and meet back here. Five points for each item, some are easy some are difficult, a bonus ten points for the first back and ten points if you get all the items correct. Are we clear? Right, on your marks, get set, go.'

There was a flurry of activity whilst people stood up to get a sheet. Sherlock waited knowing that Molly would get them one and was soon rewarded by her sitting down besides him looking bright eyed and excited.

'Here we go, what have we got?'

He glanced down the list that she was holding out for him to see and he was intrigued to see that it wasn't as straight-forward as he had expected. In fact some of the items seemed down-right odd.

**Take photos of any items you can't collect physically:**

**\- A kiss on the lips with Flanagan and Allen**   
**\- Some Brighton Rock**   
**\- Catch a honeybee**   
**\- Think of Sherlock's mind and go up as far as you can**   
**\- Get lost in chocolate**   
**\- An item of underwear (clean)**   
**\- Seal clap your way to the Quadrophenia ballroom**   
**\- Food you did not buy**   
**\- Take a selfie with a stranger (bonus points if Sherlock's in it)**   
**\- Shake hands with a policeman**

Sherlock smiled and nudged Molly. 'Get ready with your camera,' he whispered to her before standing.

'Good Luck then Greg. May the best man win.' He held out his hand and Lestrade shook it. 'You remembered my name...Oy.'

The latter was directed at Molly who had taken a photo of the two of them shaking hands.

'One down Lestrade...like taking candy from a baby. Come on Molly.'

They headed out of the hotel and started to walk towards the sea front. Molly had ticked off their first item and pointed to the beach. 'Brighton rock, we could get a pebble. That'll be good enough.'

'Fine, go get one then...but how are we going to catch a honey bee?'

Molly laughed. 'Have you even done one of these before?' She carried on as he shook his head. 'It doesn't necessarily mean a literal honey bee; it could be a picture of one or an ornament...something like that. Just keep your eyes peeled.'

She put the rock into the small rucksack that she had brought specifically. She started to look at the list again when Sherlock suddenly grabbed her hand. 'Run.'

He barely gave her a chance to assimilate what he'd said before he pulled her sharply to the right and ran behind an advertising hording.

'What the hell...'

'Sally and Anderson had accosted someone further down the beach and were endeavouring to take a photo with me in the background. I couldn't let them, they'll get bonus points.'

She looked up at him and laughed. 'Wow, you're taking this really seriously aren't you.'

'Are we not supposed to? Now what does this first clue mean. Who are Flanagan and Allen, some pop duo or something?'

'No, I'm sure I've heard of them. They're from the 1920's I'm thinking black and white comedians. I don't mean they were black and white I mean...'

'I know what you meant. Why would we kiss them?'

As she thought and used her phone to google he peered around the edge of the advertising board. 'It's safe now. Come on. Let's head towards the pier. We can steal some food on the way.'

'We're not supposed to steal stuff...oh I've found something. Flanagan and Allen's most famous song was called Underneath the Arches.'

'Brilliant, there are some down here, on the sea front. I saw them earlier. And what? We have to take a photograph there, as proof?'

Molly suddenly blushed. 'Umm....yes...kissing. It's OK I know it says on the lips but you can just kiss me on the cheek.'

By now they had reached the small shops and clubs that were situated in arches under the promenade. Molly took her phone out and set it up for a selfie. 'OK kiss me now.'

Sherlock found his heart beat had increased and was pounding in his ears. His senses felt as though they were on overdrive and as Molly proffered her cheek all he could think was he didn't want to kiss her there, but he did, pressing his lips against her cheek until she indicated she'd taken the photo.

She checked the picture and frowned. 'No, see I haven't got the arch in the background. We need to take it again.'

This time Sherlock was determined not to chicken out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this count as a cliff-hanger? Not that much tension but I think I'll say it is regardless. Looks as though Sherlock might be coming around to the idea of him and Molly though.


	8. Chapter 8

Molly fiddled with her phone once more and then glanced at Sherlock. 'Sorry, I didn't do it on purpose.'

He smiled. 'I never said you did. Ready now?'

'Yes,' she stuck her cheek out towards him as she looked at the phone. He moved towards her but this time brought his hand up to cup her jaw moving her face slightly so when his lips landed it was on her mouth. For a moment it was a passive kiss but within a couple of seconds he heard her give a slight moan and then her mouth opened moving deliciously against his.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

Molly hadn't expected this at all. One minute she was concentrating on taking a photo and the next she was kissing Sherlock and this was no kiss on the cheek. Her free hand moved around his back to keep herself stable and her other hand was still holding her phone out. She had no idea if she'd even taken the photo and she was rapidly forgetting why they even needed one. The only thing on her mind was how good this kiss was. 

She could smell him, taste him, feel him. He felt strong as his arms came around her securing her and as his lips moved against hers she felt dizzy with lust, shock and confusion. Was this how it had felt when they'd had sex the night before? Because this was so much better than her memories had told her.

Finally they broke apart, breathing heavily and still holding onto each other. Molly's eyes were searching his face; looking for answers as to why he had done that but she couldn't read him at all. His eyes were dilated, his cheeks flushed and his lips red from kissing her. He looked gorgeous. Finally he smirked. 'Did you get the shot?'

'I...oh...I don't know.' She brought up the hand which had been holding the forgotten phone and there it was a perfect shot of Sherlock kissing her underneath the arches. Was that the only reason he'd done it? She felt the elation in her chest being crushed a little under her uncertainty. She wanted to ask him but she didn't want to hear a negative answer so she showed him the photo and watched as he looked through the list once more.

'This one I know, I don't know about the Quadrophenia reference but 'seal clap your way to' probably means the sea life centre. It's down here. Come on and keep on the lookout for any of the others, I don't want them following us or getting my photo. 

She chuckled at his enthusiasm, she should have known he would be quite competitive, but not this much so. 'It's a film reference about mods and rockers in Brighton. It must have been filmed around here.'

 

He took her hand and led her through the crowds and past the pier that they'd walked up the night before. As she saw it Molly vowed she wouldn't get so drunk tonight. She wanted to be fully aware of what she was getting up to, especially given Sherlock's new found tactileness around her.

Once they arrived Sherlock made Molly pose whilst he took her photo using her phone. She felt a little ridiculous smiling for him. In an odd way it all felt so real; as though they could be a normal couple just sight-seeing together like everyone else. Her heart twisted in her chest, she wanted that with him so much it hurt.

As they walked away Sherlock swiped something from one of the cafe tables and held it up to Molly. It was a beer mat with a hive and a bee on it, his smile made him look like an excited school boy. 'Will this do?'

'Yes, it's perfect. Right what's left?'

Sherlock took out the list. 'I don't understand this one about my mind. It makes no sense, how can you go up in my head?'

Molly giggled. 'It must be a reference to that thing that you do.'

He frowned. 'What thing?'

'You know, where you go into your head and retrieve information. John's always....um...' She tailed off feeling a little embarrassed as she realised that Sherlock probably didn't know that John did a wicked impersonation of him.

He narrowed his eyes. 'What does John do?...there's no point trying to cover for him now Molly.'

'Well, I mean, it's really funny. He does this impression of you...oh what is it he says....oh yes.'

She schooled her face to be really serious and held up her hands either side of her head. In a low pitched voice and overly serious she said. 'John, I need to go to my mind palace.' Then she promptly burst out laughing. It was a few seconds before she realised that Sherlock wasn't laughing with her. 

'Yes, I'm sure it's hilarious. Shall we get on?' He stalked off towards the pier and Molly had to run to keep up with him letting out the occasional snort of laughter at his reaction.

'So, where are we going?'

He rolled his eyes but slowed his pace a little as he realised she was basically jogging at the side of him. 'I would have thought it were obvious.'

'Erm...nope.'

'The Palace pier....you made reference to my mind palace. We need to go as high up the pier as we can which means the Ferris wheel. I hope you have a head for heights Molly.'

She grinned widely and without even thinking about it she linked arms with him in her excitement. 'Oh I love the big wheel.'

Sherlock looked down at where her arm linked with his but he couldn't say he found it unpleasant. The thrill and enjoyment she took in life's small pleasures was infectious and he found himself smiling back at her.

It seems they weren't the only ones to have got this clue and Sherlock stood in the queue scowling as Sally and Anderson waved to them from their carriage. Eventually their turn came to an end and they came over after they'd climbed out.

'Hey freak...Molly. Worked out your own clue then did you? Good job we'd seen John do his impersonation last night or we'd never have got it. Anyway, see you later.'

They climbed into the ancient carriage and Molly let out a slight squeal when it swung as it was released and they jerkily started to move up the outside of the wheel as others got into the carriages below them. 

It swung back and forth in the breeze and Molly noticed how much cooler it was the higher up they went. Sherlock noticed her shiver slightly and it was all the excuse he needed to put his arm around her shoulder and hug her against his chest. He felt a little as though he were fifteen again, enjoying a seaside holiday with his grandparents, chasing after girls and trying to illegally buy a pack of cigarettes.

'What is this Sherlock?'

He looked down and found Molly nervously looking up at him, her forehead creasing, showing her worries.

'Does it have to be anything Molly?'

She bit her lip and he found himself wanting to stop her, he didn't want to see her looking sad and pensive. He wanted to make her smile again so he went on.

'I...I'm not good with feelings Molly, but then I think you know that better than most. That being said, I like you. I've always liked you and I find myself open to the idea of us being more.'

'Oh.'

Molly still looked thoughtful but not quite so worried.

'So can I kiss you now, Molly Hooper?'

This brought him the smile he'd been wanting to see. Shyly she nodded her head and just as the big wheel crested the top of its circumference Sherlock bent his head to hers and kissed her. 

In some ways it felt to him as though it were the first time. He seemed to be hyper aware of everything. The sun on his arm, the cool breeze ruffling his hair, Molly's sweet mouth on his. He felt a swell of something in his chest which was unfamiliar to him. It wasn't lust, he could sense that as an undercurrent, there waiting to be satisfied. No, this was something more, something far more to be feared. He recognised it and where once he would have pushed it away this time he decided to open himself to to it. It was love, affection, sentiment...he didn't quite know yet what box to put it into but he knew he felt more for Molly than just friendship. He wanted to hold her, protect her, stay with her. He'd been fighting his underlying feelings for her for so long and maybe now was the time to just give in to them.

He moved his conscious mind to concentrate on the kiss. Her hand had moved into his hair and she was pulling on it in a way that sent sensations from his scalp all the way through his body. He could feel himself starting to respond to her physically and he knew he wanted her. He wanted to feel her underneath him, calling out his name as she had the night before. He wanted to experience the joy of thrusting into her until he came. In fact he couldn't wait for this stupid game to be over.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

Molly gave into the kiss and gave into Sherlock, this time she knew he wanted her as much as she wanted him; at least physically and it had her moaning against him wishing they were somewhere other than on a big wheel in public. She wanted to remove his clothes and touch every inch of his skin, exploring him, biting him, kissing him.

She didn't want the kiss to end but as the wheel sped up she started to feel her stomach dip as they descended and she had to pull away. His arm remained around her shoulders and she knew she was grinning like an idiot but she just couldn't help it. This weekend was turning into the best one ever. And yes, she knew she sounded as though she were a teenager and she just didn't care. She wanted the world to know that Sherlock Holmes had kissed her.

It seemed odd when she knew she had had sex with him but it felt as though the sex hadn't been real but this kiss had. This kiss represented him consciously wanting her and choosing her. Tentatively she put one hand on his thigh, holding on as the ride moved on making their carriage rock. She could feel the warmth of his skin through his jeans and the solidness of his muscle, she gave a squeeze and looked up at him smiling to see his response. When he returned her gaze she was shocked to see how dilated his eyes were. She'd never seen him look so....aroused.

It was only as the ride started to slow that either of them remembered that they were supposed to take a photo to prove they'd taken the ride. Once again Sherlock insisted he photograph Molly. She blushed in embarrassment and he realised that she honestly had no idea how beautiful she was. He vowed to make sure that from now on she knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Point of Interest: Phil Davies, the poisoner from Study in Pink was in the film Quadrophenia. I only realised when I was researching for this fic. The ballroom in the film is now the Brighton Sealife centre. I hope you've been enjoying the hunt...let me know.


	9. Chapter 9

They got off the wheel and moved to one side wordlessly meeting each other's need to kiss once more. They made it to the railings overlooking the water and Molly felt the metal rail against her lower back as Sherlock pressed himself against her and kissed her. His tongue invaded her mouth in the same way that his body was invading her senses. Everything seemed to narrow down to the two of them and the feel of him as he touched her. 

She let her hands slide underneath his jacket and under his t shirt where she could feel his bare flesh beneath her fingers. She knew she was becoming aroused and she just couldn't bring herself to care. That was until they heard Greg swearing behind them.

'Fucking hell....Sherlock? Molly? Jesus...it is you. What the hell...?'

Sherlock pulled away from her and moved to one side so he was leaning against the railings, his arm still around her waist.

'Call yourself a detective Gavin; don't tell me you've only just cottoned on to our relationship. We've been together for months now.'

Molly elbowed him as she saw Greg's jaw drop. 'Don't be mean. He's kidding you, it's...this....I mean well it's new...very new.'

'Right, OK then. Well, I'm pleased for you I suppose. Just....just don't be an arse OK Sherlock. Molly's a good person.'

Sherlock felt himself bridling but he knew Lestrade was right. He could be an arse and he no doubt would hurt Molly at some point. He frowned as he wondered whether he was being fair to her.

They said their goodbyes and started to wander back down the pier. Sherlock was lost in thought and Molly glanced at him nervously. In the end she brought them to a halt and she turned to face him. 'Listen, I know what you're like Sherlock. I know you're going to get caught up in a case and forget we were meeting, or that you'll get bored one day and take it out on me and believe me when I say I will call you out on it if you treat me badly. But I don't want that to be a reason for us not to try. OK?'

He shook his head, but then smiled. 'How do you always know me so well? No one else seems to see me like you do.'

He gave her a light kiss before shaking off his mood. 'Come on we must be close to finishing this damn game and I don't know about you but I can't wait til we do and we can get back to our room.'

This time when he looked at her her mouth ran dry. She wanted exactly what he was implying. 

It was about that time that Molly started to notice a cluster of teenage girls watching them, whispering and pointing. Sherlock saw her glance over and rolled his eyes. 'Yes, they've been following us since we left Lestrade and his cousin.'

'Why?'

He huffed and actually looked a little sheepish, he cleared his throat. 'Groupies.'

Molly thought she must have mis-heard. 'Sorry, what?'

'Groupies....it appears that, as John keeps reminding me, I have become something of a celebrity and apparently that means teenage girls fancy me.'

Molly snorted with laughter and was about to scoff when three of the girls came over still giggling and nudging each other, obviously egging each other on. Two others lagged behind but close enough to hear what was being said.

'Excuse me, you're Sherlock Holmes, the hat detective, aren't you?'

'It would appear so.'

'Oh my God.' 'You're so hot.' 'You're taller in real life.' 'Can you deduce us?'

'I'm sorry I'm busy at the moment. Well, I'm not but you're boring so...'

Just then Molly nudged him. He turned frowning. 'What?'

'Selfie with a stranger, this is perfect.' 

He took a deep breath and turned back. 'Would you like a photo with me? My girlfriend can take it.'

Molly felt her heart skip a beat at him referring to her in that manner and the three girls immediately looked her up and down, their faces set hard against her but they nodded in agreement to Sherlock. One by one they passed Molly their phones as they clustered around him with the two either side wrapping their arms around his back and waist. Sherlock frowning and moving a little when one of them groped his backside.

His grimace remained even after the hand was moved which made Molly laugh. 'Smile, Sherlock.'

She took a few photos and made sure she took one with her own camera for the hunt. Once done he stepped away from them and they immediately started to pester him again to deduce them. Molly wished she could tell them not to do it, not to press him on it but it seemed it was too late.

He looked from one to the other and then started. 'Youngest of three, parents divorced. You're a virgin but you've told your friends you aren't. You on the other hand are an only child of two devoted parents, princess mentality, think the world owes you a living, dating an older boy and having a fling with another. Finally, you like reading and baking, you plan to go to university but your grades will never be good enough. You slept with her boyfriend and now you're worried you might be pregnant but you're not. Happy now?'

Molly waited for the tears or the anger but was shocked when all three started giggling once more.

'Wow, that was so cool.' 'I'd sleep with you too if you'd let me.' 'So hot!'

Sherlock turned to Molly and rolled his eyes as she started to laugh. 'I don't think I will ever understand teenage girls. If I'd said those things to anyone else you'd have been berating me and telling me off.'

Molly linked arms with him as they started to walk once more. 'I never realised you were a sex symbol. Should I feel intimidated?'

The full group of girls walked past them again still giggling and smiling in their direction as they passed. It was only a few moments later that Molly realised Sherlock was distracted and he removed his arm from hers as he ran after the group pulling one of the girls to one side. He said something to her briefly and they seemed to swap items before Sherlock walked back to Molly and the girl caught up with her friends. It was one of the two who hadn't come over. Her friends quickly gathered round her and Molly saw her look back over her shoulder at Sherlock, concern written all over her face.

'What was that? What did you say to her?'

'She's being abused, physically and sexually...at a guess I'd say by her step-father but I can't be sure. I gave her some money and my card, told her I'd help if she ever needed it.'

'And what did she give you?'

At this he smiled and brought his hand out of his pocket. 'Stick of gum. My excuse for talking to her...as far as her friends are concerned. And now, we have food we haven't bought.'

Molly smiled briefly but her thoughts were still on the girl. 'Do you often see things like that? Things the rest of the world doesn't see...or doesn't want to see?'

'Only if I look, I don't always look, I can't deduce everyone. I've tried to intervene before in cases like this but the victim has to want to be helped. When she's ready she'll be in touch and then I can work with the local police to bring him to justice. In her case, I don't think it will take long. I'll hear from her within the week.'

They walked on in silence for a few minutes as Molly started to comprehend the enormity of the responsibility Sherlock must sometimes feel. All the things he saw but couldn't fix. No wonder he'd built such a shell around himself.

At the end of the pier he checked his watch and pulled out the list. 'Just under an hour to go and only two items left. I'm assuming you have some clean underwear we can use.'

'Hey, why does it have to be my underwear? What about yours?'

'I didn't bring any.'

'Oh....really? Isn't that uncomfortable?' 

Sherlock started to laugh. 'Oh Molly, so gullible. Fine, so a pair of my pants. That leaves "get lost in chocolate" I suspect that means somewhere in The Lanes...I checked a Brighton street map before we came and there are old fashioned pedestrianised lanes which people do get lost in.' He pointed across the street to the left of the pier. 'Let's go in and see if we can see anything that fits.'

He held out his hand to her and Molly took it, realising how much bigger his hand was than hers. He engulfed her. It felt a little like an allegory for their lives. He had the capacity to take her over completely, to swallow her whole. She felt a frisson of fear through her body at the though of just how much he could hurt her but she had no other option but to move forwards. She wouldn't give up this chance with him for anything, he was and always had been worth the risk.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH 

Together they walked through the streets; Sherlock was starting to get bored with the whole scavenger hunt. He had a feeling that getting Molly back to their room would be a much more interesting and diverting prospect but he didn't want to be beaten by Greg, John or worse Anderson though so he carried on scouring the shops they passed looking for the one in the clue.

Thankfully he was soon rewarded when Molly pointed towards a shop with one of the most ridiculous names that Sherlock had even seen.

It pained him to even say it out loud. 'Choccywoccydoodah....really, that's the name they came up with.'

It didn't help that Molly burst out laughing at his disgruntlement.

He grimaced. 'Let's just take a photo and go. We need to be first back to win the quiz.'

'Hang on; I want to go in for a minute. I wanted to buy Mike Stamford a present and chocolate would be perfect.'

'You do know he's overweight, at risk of a heart attack or at the very least diabetes. I'm not sure that chocolate is the most thoughtful present ever, maybe trainers or a diet book.'

Molly ignored him and pulled him into the shop with her before letting go of his hand as she browsed the merchandise. Sherlock looked around, briefly wondering whether he should buy his brother one of the huge glass jars of chocolate buttons that were for sale. He chuckled to himself. It was then that he spotted the pot of chocolate body paint.

He couldn't help but be curious as he picked it up and read the instructions. He could see the benefits, might be fun. As he took the lid off the jar he glanced over at Molly who was buying her gift. He dipped his fingers in and tasted the smooth, creamy chocolate. Very nice.

He'd just scooped out some more when Molly came and joined him. 'Hey, you're not supposed to taste it. You'll have to buy it now. What is it?'

'Chocolate Body Paint. Want to try?' He held out his fingers and smirked.

He had expected her to laugh and push his hand away. How was it that she always managed to so completely surprise him? 

She took hold of his hand, looked him straight in the eye and then took his fingers into her mouth in such a way that he could only describe it as simulating a blow job. If she had been aiming to turn him on it worked. The feel of the heat of her mouth and her tongue swirling around his fingers, sucking on the chocolate had blood rushing away from his head and straight into his cock. He almost groaned out loud and it was only the room full of shoppers that stopped him. He knew his eyes were almost shut and it was an effort for him to close his mouth which had fallen open in shock.

'God, Molly, you will be the death of me I swear.'

As she finished he threw some money on the counter to cover the cost of the chocolate and towed Molly out of the shop. As they made their way back to the hotel he vowed he would have her within the hour, if not within the next fifteen minutes.


	10. Chapter 10

Molly was completely lost but she was confident that Sherlock knew exactly where he was going. They wound their way through the narrow streets, weaving in and out of the other shoppers. It was as if he were on a mission and Molly was hoping his thoughts were the same as hers. The look on his face as she had licked his fingers had done more to arouse her than the efforts of some guys with their whole bodies. She knew she was already slick and wet for him. The foreplay and chemistry between them had been building all day. 

Finally, they broke out of the lanes and Molly was surprised to see their hotel down the street on the left. It looked like there was no getting lost when you were with Sherlock.

They made their way into the bar and the landlord rose to greet them, putting his newspaper down on the table and making his way behind the bar.

'Looks as though you two are the first ones back. Do you want to let me have your evidence? I have the answers here to make sure it's all correct.'

Slowly, and with Sherlock huffing and tutting with impatience he marked off all their items. Sherlock refused to go and get underpants so Molly showed her bra strap as evidence of the underwear clue. Just as it looked as though things were wrapping up in their favour Greg and his cousin appeared followed closely by John and Mary, both of the latter pair out of breath where they had run to try to beat Greg.

Greg gesticulated in exasperation. 'Oh bloody hell; I should have known you'd already be here. Have they got everything right?'

'It seems they have, yes. I declare them the winners. Who'd like a drink to celebrate?' The landlord looked around and seeing heads nodding he started to pour the drinks.

'No, I think Molly and I....'

'Oh sit your backside down Sherlock. I want to double check your evidence for myself. Having another drink isn't going to hurt you.'

Greg pulled up a stool next to him and deposited his own items onto the bar which included a stick of Brighton rock, already half eaten, and a hair bobble with a bumble bee on it. He picked up the phone by Sherlock and started to leaf through the photos hesitating on the one of Sherlock kissing Molly and nudging John to show him and Mary.

Mary came over and sat by Molly carrying a glass of wine for each of them as the noise in the room increased with the addition of Inspectors Gregson and Hopkins.

Mary clinked glasses with Molly. 'So, from the looks of those photos and the ribbing that Sherlock is getting from Greg I take it things between the two of you have progressed?'

Molly couldn't help the grin that spread across her face as she looked over at Sherlock who was scowling as he drank his beer. He looked most put out by the addition of other people and Molly couldn't say she disagreed with him. Just looking at him put images in her head and made her mouth water.

'Oh, you've got it bad haven't you. You're undressing him with your eyes and the rest...you're making me blush.'

Molly laughed and focused her attention back on her friend. 'Sorry, sorry, it's just all so new and weird. I'd given up hope of us ever being more than friends...I'm not even sure I know how to be more with him. I mean...I know we did it last night but I was so drunk...what if it's a disaster? What if he doesn't like it when he's sober? What if...'

'The sun falls out of the sky...oh Molly, you're just stressing about nothing. I bet when it's just the two of you it will all just feel right because it is right. You and Sherlock have been so right for each other for so long and it has been maddening that he couldn't see it.'

Finally Anderson and Sally appeared still arguing about whose fault it was that they had got lost in the Lanes. Greg started to order up another round of drinks and must have said something to Sherlock because he exploded in return. 'No, I really don't want another and I am not being boring. I came back here with the sole intention of having sex with Molly; not wasting time with you.'

The room fell so quiet you could have heard a pin drop and every pair of eyes bar Sherlock's turned to look at Molly who for a moment sat open mouthed staring at Sherlock. He meanwhile had his eyes closed as he tried to reign in his temper. 

She stood and walked over hearing Sally whispering to Mary. 'The freak and Molly? Really?'

As she reached his side he looked up at her. 'I apologise Molly...'

She smiled and took his hand. 'No need. I agree completely. We'll see you all later. What time are we meeting up later Greg?'

'I...err...here in the bar at seven. Don't forget the 70's theme.'

'OK.' With that she led Sherlock from the bar and up the stairs to their room, hearing the unrestrained gossiping start as soon as they left the room.

The only trouble was that by the time they got to the top floor her reserves of confidence had run out and she suddenly felt nervous. What was she doing marching him up to their bedroom for sex? This wasn't like her and it certainly wasn't like Sherlock. 

Thankfully, when the door shut behind them he took over and she really didn't need to worry about anything at all.

His first move was to pin her to the back of the door his hands on her wrists holding her in place as his mouth once more met with hers. The kiss started off slow and almost shy but it didn't stay that way for long. She matched him in intensity and when she moaned into his mouth his hands travelled down her arms and down the sides of her breasts and to her waist before he pulled her against him.

She could immediately feel his physical reaction to her; it was hard against her hip and it made her moan a second time as she let her owns hands, newly released, roam over his back. She wanted to feel his naked skin, to kiss it and lick it and bite it. She quickly managed to push his jacket off his shoulders and immediately her hands moved to the hem of his t shirt before dragging it up and over his head. 

He pulled away from her, helping her to part undress him and waiting as she viewed his body, her fingers ghosting over the skin on his chest and abdomen. She could see slight scars from old injuries including the bullet wound that had almost killed him. She liked Mary and even called her a friend but that was one action she would never quite forgive her for. They had come far too close to losing him and if they had a part of Molly would have died along with him.

She leant forward and kissed the scar feeling him shudder slightly as she did, his hands coming up and tangling in her hair. 

Slowly she kissed across his chest until she reached his nipple which she then toyed with, sucking and biting on it, hearing him hum with pleasure. His reactions got all the more loud when she retrieved the chocolate pot from the bag thrown onto the floor and liberally smeared his chest before slowly and religiously licking it all off. Finally her hands moved down and she felt his hardness through the confines of his jeans.

He pulled on her hair just enough to be able to kiss her once more as he turned them both around and moved them back towards the bed where they fell in an ungainly heap, giggling and still kissing at the same time.

'God Molly, you have no idea how much I want you right now. I thought this afternoon would never end.'

It wasn't long before he'd stripped her down to her jeans but he took a lot more time over her breasts as he looked at them, held them and kissed them until Molly was writhing and begging him for more. Shamelessly she wrapped her legs around his waist and pushed herself up against his erection trying to find more stimulation, groaning with pleasure as he bucked his hips into her. Their bottom halves were still fully clothed but Molly was in no doubt that he could make her come if he continued to move against her the way he was.

That was not his intention though as he kissed his way down the valley of her breasts and to her stomach, hooking his fingers into the belt hooks on her jeans as he let his tongue trails across from hip to hip. Finally, he undid her jeans and pulled them down her legs along with her pants so she was laid out naked before him. She found she was too aroused to feel embarrassed; she needed him too much.

He knelt up in front of her, in between her legs and looked down at her before smiling one of the most evil smiles she'd ever seen from him. 'Oh Molly I want to hear you scream my name, are you ready?'

Dry mouthed she nodded, her eyes wide with desire and surprise as he went down on her with his mouth. He was far too good at oral sex for a man who had been abstinent for so long. It was a sin to women everywhere that he had not been sharing that talent but Molly was more than happy to be reaping the rewards. His hands were holding her hips tightly, preventing her from moving too much as his tongue assaulted her. Within minutes she was doing just as he had asked, crying out his name as her first orgasm washed over her. 

If she'd thought he would let up she was sorely mistaken, it was as though her first orgasm was just a warm up. He waited until she was hanging onto the edge of a second before he knelt back up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He watched Molly writhing on the sheets desperate for more, her chest and face flushed with her arousal and her nipples standing out red and hard against her pale skin. 

Quickly he stood and removed his jeans, finally releasing his aching cock. As he stood before her she sat up and pulled him forwards, her small hands on his hips before she greedily took him into her mouth. He felt her groan echo down his length and he knew he wouldn't be able to stand too much of this without coming.

He closed his eyes and let his hands tangle in her hair as his hips rocked into her. Her mouth felt so wet and so warm. He could feel his climax starting and he had to pull away, looking down only to see Molly's hand touching herself. His manhood pulsed in response and he knew he was leaking. It was too much and he pushed her backwards as he climbed back onto the bed.

He positioned himself and in one swift thrust he filled her completely, feeling her muscles tight around him. He had to still himself to try to stop himself from coming too fast but Molly was already urging him on, her hands pulling on his backside and her hips rocking up into him taking what she needed from him.

Slowly he withdrew before sliding back in, the cool air alternating with her hot core making his balls tighten and his mind start to fade out as physical sensation overtook any conscious thought. He could hear her saying his name and knew he was repeating hers as they both got closer and closer to their climaxes. Molly fell first and the feeling of her muscles tightening around him gave him permission to let go of the last of his control as he slammed into her, thrusting into her as deep as he could as he came hard. 

They stayed wrapped up in each other for quite some time still kissing, messing with the chocolate and giggling as the aftershocks of their orgasms rippled through them. Sherlock realised he had finally found the place where he was completely at peace and it was in Molly Hooper's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know they could have done more with the chocolate but they were both a bit too eager. I'm sure it will get used up eventually.


	11. Chapter 11

They must have dozed for an hour or so but finally they stretched and after kissing once more Molly got up and made her way to the bathroom whilst Sherlock lit a cigarette knowing she'd tell him off when she got back but not quite caring enough not to do it. 

He sat in the bed looking out over the sea, seeing the sun starting to set and relishing how strangely peaceful he felt. Normally his mind would be racing and working overtime, especially with no case to occupy him but instead he was content to enjoy the small pleasures, in this case a sunset.

Molly came back out, wrapped in a bath towel and took one sniff of the acrid smell before rolling her eyes at him. She didn't tell him off however instead she made her way to the wardrobe to retrieve her outfit for that night.

'So, what did you bring for the 70's theme?'

'No idea, I just asked my tailor to send something over. It's in the suit bag but I haven't looked.'

'Do you mind if I..'

'No, go ahead. Do we have to go to this evening thing? Can't we just stay in bed? I know what I'd rather being doing and it's you...not some stupid themed disco.'

Molly smiled and her smile got even wider when she opened up his bag. 'If you think you're getting out of me seeing you in this outfit you have another thing coming. All I'll say is your tailor is inspired and you should pay him extra.'

Sherlock frowned and sat up and leant forward trying to see. 'Why? What did he send?'

Molly pulled the bag out to show him.

'It's just a white suit and a black shirt. What's so 70's about that?'

She laughed. 'I take it you haven't seen Saturday Night Fever then because that's what you’re going as. Oh...the others are going to love this, I can't wait to see their faces.'

'So, what are you wearing?'

He could tell by Molly's reaction that there was a story here, he could see it in her stance, in the way she smiled as though remembering something, the slight blush in her cheeks. He leant forwards with his arms on his knees, 'tell me.'

'It's a vintage dress. A bit more late 60's than 70's but....it's the outfit my mum was wearing when she first met my dad. She kept it all these years....anyway I tried it on and it fitted so I thought, why not.'

She pulled her dress bag out and opened it showing him a psychedelic yellow and lime green mini dress. Very awful and very Molly. 

'I bought some white, plastic boots to go with it....knee highs,' she blushed again as she saw his expression. 

'It seems apt then.'

She looked at him, confused. 'Why?'

'Well that you wear it the weekend we finally got together; a story for our own children.'

Molly snorted with laughter but then hesitated. 'You can't be serious.'

'Why?'

'We've literally just got together and you're talking about us having kids as though we'll still be together in twenty years’ time.'

He sat back in the bed looking sulky. 'I don't see why that is so unreasonable. I've thought this through Molly. It's not as though my mind has been consumed with anything more demanding today. I've worked through all the permutations and it is inevitable that now I have declared my feelings for you we will soon get married and given your desire for them and my ambivalence we will probably end up having children. I don't see the need to obfuscate or dissemble about things.'

She moved over and sat at the side of him on the bed facing him before she leant forward and kissed him. She felt his mouth open to her and his hand come up and cup her cheek and she swore that she had never loved him quite so much as she did in that moment. 

She pulled away and they smiled as they looked at each other, as though seeing the other for the first time. Her hand moved up to his face and she ran her thumb along his lips giggling as he pretended to bite it. Then she frowned a little as she moved her hand up to run through his curls. He looked up at his fringe, 'what?'

'We need to do your hair.'

He pulled back. 'Why? What do we need to do to it?'

She chuckled. 'John Travolta had straight hair, not curls. Go have a shower and then I can dry it and straighten it.'

'Can't we just spend the time in bed instead, I'm sure it would be more enjoyable. I could make you scream again.'

Molly was torn but she'd been looking forward to this evening. 'Later, according to you we've got all the time in the world. So now, we do your hair, then we go party and later you can make me scream.'

'Promise.' 

'I promise.' 

'Fine,' he kissed her once more before he got up off the bed and padded into the bathroom.

Molly lay back on the bed and almost had to pinch herself to believe what was happening. Her relationship with Sherlock was moving so fast that her brain was struggling to keep up. She wondered if living at the centre of a whirlwind was her life now and smiled. Even if it was she wouldn't swap it for the world.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

Twenty minutes later he was grumbling and complaining as he sat in front of the mirror with Molly teasing his hair through her straighteners.

'I shall look ridiculous. It's too long when it's straight.'

'It'll be fine, we can slick it back with some hair gel or mousse or something. I borrowed some stuff off Mary; she says it's quite good.'

As she moved in front of him he let one hand slide up her leg and under the short mini dress that she was now wearing. He had to admit it looked far better on her than it had in the bag and he more than liked the knee high boots. Maybe he could persuade her to leave those on later. The heels made her legs look a lot longer and the short dress showed off how slim they were. 

He played with the silky lace at the edge of her knickers wondering just how far she might let him go. He was rewarded a moment later with her slapping his hand away. 'Stop it; I don't want to burn you.'

'I doubt that will happen, not if you concentrate on what you're doing and not on what I'm doing.' He let his hand slide up again, this time on her inner thigh until he was able to cup her, rubbing her lightly through her pants until she squirmed. 'God, stop it. I'll never make it through the evening if you do things like that.'

Finally she put the straighteners down and used the gel to push his hair back, quiffing it a little at the front. As she moved in front of him he pulled her onto his lap so she was straddling him and he kissed her hard letting his tongue explore her mouth and hearing her moan as she realised he was hard for her. 

Just as they were about to get carried away there was a knock at the door. 'Sherlock, Molly, you ready?'

Sherlock broke off the kiss and leant his forehead against Molly's, breathing heavily.

John knocked a second time. 'Sherlock?'

'Yes, give us a minute.'

Molly stood up and straightened her dress and hair which was backcombed and held in place with hairspray. Sherlock finally looked in the mirror to see what Molly had done to him; he certainly looked different with his hair like that. He glanced at Molly. 'Well, what do you think?'

'It certainly makes your cheekbones stand out but I miss your curls, they soften your face. You look too stern like this.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'So you wouldn't want me being stern with you? Maybe even a little dictatorial?' He chuckled as he saw the blush spread across Molly's cheeks and she smiled shyly. 'Well, maybe just a little. But not now; now we have to party so come on.'

He picked up his jacket and slid into it. The suit was a perfect fit if not a little tight around his hips and thighs before flaring out at the ankles. He assumed that had been the style back then and Molly certainly seemed to appreciate it. 

He certainly wasn't prepared for the sight which met his eyes when he opened the door to the landing and he let out a guffaw of laughter. 

'Yes very funny Sherlock. You do know you're in fancy dress as well don't you?'

As he continued to laugh John turned on his significantly higher heel than normal and stalked off down the stairs. 

'Come on you,' grinned Molly who was also struggling to keep a straight face in the light of John and Mary's punk rocker outfits.

'Is that an actual piercing Mary?' Asked Molly as she pointed to the safety pin through her friends nose.

'Good isn't it, but no. It's fake. Do you like John's Mohican? It took some convincing to get him to wear the wig but it looks ever so good in my opinion.'

'The wig is inspired Mary,' chuckled Sherlock, still struggling to contain his laughter. He had never seen John look so different. He had tight jeans with rips in them, a t shirt with tartan trim and a battered black leather jacket. All topped off with a four inch blue, green and red Mohican. Mary was similarly dressed but with her blond hair slicked back with gel and safety pin piercings on her ears and nose. It was very effective.

His laughter only continued as they reached the bar to find the rest of the stag party dressed as the village people. Greg was an American cop, Anderson a builder, Duncan in black leather, the two inspectors as an Indian and a Cowboy and Sally looking most fetching in a US soldiers outfit.

There was lots of laughter all round and much taking of photos as they all had a drink and admired each other's outfits. 

It felt good to have finally given into his feelings for Molly and to be able to sit with one arm around her shoulders as he drank his pint and talked to John about his plans for the cold case when they were back in London. Having her hand resting on his thigh was also very pleasant.

He was still aware that the others were finding his and Molly's relationship unusual. They tried to be discreet but he still saw them staring and occasionally whispering to each other. It didn't bother him though; he'd never really cared what other people thought about him.

For now he just needed to get through the next few hours and then he could be back in his bed with Molly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you like the costume ideas? For anyone that cares Molly's is based on an outfit that Elena Gilbert wore in the Vampire Diaries. If you watched the show you probably know the one I mean.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha…so I wasn’t the only one to picture Sherlock in John Travolta’s white suit. I and you it seems would love to see him dressed like that.

The venue Greg had booked for the evening was holding a 1970's themed dinner and disco. They had a circular table close to the dance floor and stage and they enjoyed a meal of traditional 70's inspired dishes which included prawn cocktail, chicken in a basket, Black Forest gateau and Vienetta ice cream. Each dish had most of them laughing and exclaiming, remembering dinner parties their parents had thrown when they were children.

Molly noticed that Sherlock didn't eat much but she wasn't too worried. She was used to him picking around meals at times. Normally it was when he was in a case but they had all indulged that weekend so it wasn't surprising.

As the empty dessert plates were taken away and another round of drinks was bought at the bar the lights dimmed and all eyes turned to the stage to see the light entertainment.

Molly clapped and cheered with everyone else when a larger than life drag queen appeared on stage dressed in an elaborately over the top Cher costume, with bold, heavy make-up and bright, sparkling costume and jewellery.

She launched into her patter welcoming all the guests, giving a shout out to each of the various parties there that night including Greg. Their table all cheered and clapped and whooped as a spotlight briefly landed on Greg who had been sat on a more ornate chair in keeping with him being the guest of honour.

Molly noticed as they all looked at Greg that Sherlock wasn't joining in. He seemed in a world of his own.

'Hey, are you OK?' Molly whispered as the attention moved on to another table where a fiftieth birthday was being celebrated.

Sherlock's eyes focused on hers and, as ever, her stomach flipped at finding herself caught in his gaze.

'Hmm, yes, just bored. I've suffered enough of this frivolity; I'm ready to get back to work. John can find me something when we get back tomorrow. My mind feels as though there are a thousand ants crawling through it. Don't worry, I'll pop out for a cigarette in a bit....or maybe I could distract myself with you?' He smiled and leant forward to kiss her. 

Molly closed her eyes and gave into the kiss feeling his hands sliding slowly up her bare thighs until his fingers slid under the hem of her dress. She heard him hum in delight before he pulled away from her leaving her out of breath and wanting more.

He sat back in his chair and looked thoughtful once more as he sipped in his post-dinner drink.

Molly turned back to the stage to hear the diva cracking lewd jokes and then going on to talk about inviting one special guest up onto the stage to 'sample her delights.'

'So, who's it going to be boys and girls. I think tonight I need to find myself a strong, handsome man to tickle my fancy.' She laughed as she strode back and forth on the stage in eye wateringly high stilettos. 'Well, I don't know about you but as I took a look around earlier there was one person who stood out from the crowd. One person who particularly took my fancy.' She stopped and winked, batting an enormous, false eyelash.

'We've had many a person dressing up as this famous dancer but tonight's has really given me a fever,' she wafted her hand in front of her face, fanning herself, 'and I don't know how I'm going to keep Stayin' Alive?'

Molly suddenly had a dread feeling in the pit of her stomach and she obviously wasn't the only one as she heard John let out a low 'fucking hell...please, no' just as a spotlight turned to land on Sherlock.

'So, let's welcome on stage our very own sexy as fuck, John Travolta...isn't he just to die for ladies and gentlemen. Come here and let me roam my hands across that body.'

Sherlock blinked and frowned as he realised the focus of attention seemed to have landed on him. 'What?'

Greg gave him a push. 'They want you on stage.'

'Hey freak, this is going to be hilarious, smile for the camera.' Laughed Sally as she started recording the events on her phone.

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he stood before making his way up to the steps and onto the stage.

Molly was the first to admit that in his pure white suit and black shirt unbuttoned to the low cut waist coat, he was sinfully handsome. He really did stand out head and shoulders above the rest of the clientele. There was just something so confident and entitled in the way he carried himself and it helped that the suit was obviously expensive and fitted; not compared to the normal attire of the rest of the room which was made up from charity shop purchases and old finds made at the back of wardrobes.

He made his way over to the compare and sat on the bar stool, in the centre of the stage, as instructed; unbuttoning his jacket as he did, one foot up on the low rung.

'My, my boys and girls, now I see him up close and soon to be oh so personal I am even more impressed with my choice. This man is dressed to impress. Tell me, do you do John Travolta impressions for a living or is it a side-line gig?'

Sherlock frowned as the mike was thrust towards him, 'I would have thought it painfully obvious that I DON'T do that for a living. What on earth would make you think that?'

The diva smiled, her bright pink lipstick stretching across her face as she circled him, letting her matching false nails trail over his chest and back. 'Well, this is not a cheap suit, surely you don't wear it to your day job?'

'No, my tailor sent it over for this event.'

She raised an eyebrow and made a money gesture above his head which had everyone laughing and Sherlock looking up to see what he was missing.

'Well, my compliments to your tailor on his exquisite taste. He obviously appreciates your body as much as the rest of us do.....so, my mysterious man, what do you do for a living?'

Sherlock obviously didn't want to draw too much attention to himself because he just answered. 'I'm a scientist, a chemist.'

'Ooh I love a scientist; you can be my Sheldon Cooper any day of the week, or night, preferably night.'

'Who?'

She carried on regardless. 'So my gorgeous little scientist what's your name?'

'William, William Scott.'

'Well Willy, you are very welcome here,' and with that she sat herself on his knee and wrapped her free arm around him neck ignoring his look of disinterest.

'So Willy, put us all out of our misery. Are you attached?'

'Well, I'm currently attached to you at the moment because you seem to have sat yourself on my knee.'

'Ooh a funny one.' She leant in close with Sherlock leaning back away from her. 'Are you single, engaged, married?'

'I...I have a partner.'

Molly knew she was blushing in the darkness but it gave her such a thrill to hear him acknowledge their relationship on stage.

'And is that partner male or female because you my hot and sexy friend would be a boon to either sex.'

'She's female.'

The diva stood up with a mock sad look on her face and her hand on her brow. 'Oh the heart break. So very Hetero. Is there no chance for the boys in the room?'

Sherlock looked a little bemused as he answered. 'Sex and sexuality have never really been a deciding factor in the past. I'm drawn by attraction and interest, gender is superfluous. But I am very much taken now.'

'Well, I can't argue with faithfulness. If only there were more of it in the world. But before I let your fine specimen of manhood go I think the very least we deserve is a dance from you.'

She swirled one hand into the air and the Bee Gees singing 'Stayin' Alive started to play. Sherlock immediately stood looking confused and on the defensive.

Molly just heard a 'shit, shit, shit,' from John and then he was making his way to the stage.

As he climbed onto the stage the music quieted a little as the Cher lookalike brought her mike back up to her lips. 'Oh, and who do we have here? Johnny Rotten?'

John indicated to Sherlock. 'I'm his partner.'

Mary groaned as the others on the table let out loud guffaws of laughter. The diva looked shocked. 'Well, I have to say you're not at all what I expected. I'm hardly one to judge but you don't look like you have a feminine bone in your body.'

John must have finally realised the implications of what he'd just said because he blushed bright red before bringing his hands up and shaking his head. He had to clear his throat before he could speak. 'No....no, I meant his business partner not his boyfriend. I just came on stage to show Sher...William the dance. I don't think he knows it.'

At that the diva turned back to Sherlock, she walked over and put her arm around his waist as she let her fingers, still holding the mike, walk up his chest. 'Is that true my gorgeous Willy? Is it possible you've dressed in this outfit and yet you don't know the famous dance?'

Sherlock frowned and Molly cringed knowing they were at risk of him launching into some monologue about what was and wasn't important knowledge wise.

It seemed Sherlock had had enough though. 'This is ridiculous. You have John now, you don't need me.' And with that he stepped off the stage as if he were stepping onto a stair rather than dropping five feet. He landed lightly and buttoned up his jacket as he walked away leaving both John and the drag queen open mouthed on the stage.

He slid back into his seat next to Molly and sighed. 'Well that was tedious, though for a moment there I thought there was going to be some reference to Moriarty when they used his ring tone.'

Molly moved over onto his lap and wrapped her hands around his neck. 'Nope, it's all just part of the character your tailor picked. She is right though, you do look positively edible in that suit. I'm not surprised she picked you out.'

Sherlock didn't bother responding he just pulled her closer and kissed her. It soon became obvious to Molly that he wasn't shy about public displays of affection. The kiss was deep and passionate and Molly felt herself drowning in her desire for him. His tongue was in her mouth and his hands were toying at the edge of her dress.

Vaguely she could hear the crown roaring with laughter at whatever John was being made to do on stage but she couldn't bring herself to stop what she and Sherlock were doing. She moved her hand to the side of his neck and she could feel the heat of his skin and the steady, if not elevated, beat of his pulse. He was truly here with her, warm and real, and she could feel her own arousal and need for him increasing with every touch of his hand and movement of his mouth.

Finally he broke the kiss and moved his mouth along her jaw and to her neck. She could feel his teeth scraping against her skin and the light-headed pain of him sucking on the skin, marking her as his own. 

The music changed and as Molly opened her eyes she realised that the entertainment had ended and the dancing was starting. The lights were dimmer and people were standing and moving around. She heard a tut from Sally as she added. 'Get a room freak we don't all want to see it.'

That had Molly blushing and realising how public they were. She pushed on his shoulders until he stopped, looking at her quizzically. 'What?'

'It's too much Sherlock, we're being too public.'

'No, we're not. I've seen far worse in far more public places.'

'Maybe but I'm not like that, you know me.'

He huffed. 'In that case I need a drink.' He glanced at her empty wine glass. 'As do you, I'll be back in a few minutes.'

He stood and buttoned his jacket over the rather obvious bulge in his white trousers which had Molly blushing once more as well as smiling proudly.


	13. Chapter 13

As Sherlock made his way to the bar Mary scooched over so she was sat next to Molly. 'Wow, I knew you and Sherlock were together but I hadn't really, really believed it until I saw you kissing just now. You two are properly hot for each other aren't you? It's almost uncomfortable to watch, a bit like turning onto a porn channel by accident.'

'Oh God, I'm sorry.'

Mary laughed. 'No, don't be. It's good to see the two of you finally getting together. Sherlock has been amazingly obtuse about his feelings for you for far too long. I don't think I need to even ask you if you're happy I can see it all over your face.' She grinned at Molly and Molly knew she was mirroring her look, she just couldn't help it. She felt so amazingly, gloriously happy in that moment that she could burst. 

She glanced over at the bar where Sherlock appeared to be arguing with John. He absent mindedly ran his hands through his hair and Molly saw the curls starting to make a reappearance. The suit certainly made him stand out in the crowd and showed off his slim, athletic frame to perfection. She knew that being with Sherlock would not be plain sailing and that he was in no way perfect but in that moment she wondered how she had got so lucky.

She chatted with Mary even after John and Sherlock returned with the drinks until eventually Mary said it was time to dance with her husband. Molly turned back to Sherlock. 'Want to dance?'

'Only if you're desperate to. Dancing with you will only serve to further frustrate me. I told John we were going to leave and go back to the hotel but he insisted we stay, at least until midnight, though I don't understand why he picked such an arbitrary time. He was arguing it was out of politeness to Gavin but I really don't see how the two of us being here is adding to his experience.'

Molly smiled wickedly. 'So are you feeling frustrated then?'

He glowered. 'Yes, I find that now I've indulged, my libido wants to make up for lost time.'

'Well as problems go I think I like that one.' 

Molly realised that as they had been talking they had been leaning closer and closer together. He was just about to close the distance for a kiss when Molly put a finger on his lips. 'Dance with me Mr Holmes.'

He huffed but stood holding out his hand to her before leading her onto the dance floor. 

There were a few cries of 'do the dance' which Sherlock roundly ignored but then they were lost in the crowds of dancers. The music had a heavy disco beat and everyone seemed to be moving together with the strobe lighting giving it an almost drug-induced feel.

Molly could feel his hands on her body, touching her but never quite where she needed them. She'd never been a great dancer but with his arm around her waist and his leg between hers he seemed to give her the illusion of it as she moved in time with him. She would never have imagined that he'd be so good.

The dance floor was hot and too crowded and Molly started to feel a little overwhelmed. Her hands moved over his chest and as she caught his glance she couldn't resist leaning in for a kiss. It was a mistake though. As soon as their lips touched it seemed to ignite something deep within her and she wanted him more than she ever had. She found herself pulling him closer, almost clawing at his clothes in a bid to feel his skin against hers. 

She knew he was moving them off the dance floor as they kissed but it was only as her back hit a wall that she opened her eyes and gasped, trying to get some air to clear her head. It was no good though his hands seemed to be everywhere as he pressed himself against her and within seconds she felt his fingers enter her.

She clung to him, kissing his neck as he roughly moved his hand against her and she could feel her orgasm rising fast. She tried to get her bearings on where they were and was relieved to find he had at least positioned them in a dark corner away from the dance floor. She tried to get a handle on her emotions but it was too late, her body was betraying her as a bone deep orgasm rocked through her making her cry out and convulse against him. She closed her eyes and gave into the feelings; there was nothing else she could do. 

Finally, the world around her started to come back into view and she felt him withdraw his hand, his forehead rested against hers as he breathed heavily and she knew he was suffering. As she got her breath back she took his hand and started to lead them back across the dance floor to their table.

When they got there she picked up her bag and jacket and whispered something to Greg who smiled and nodded, waving at Sherlock.

Sherlock caught her hand and pulled her round. 'What are we doing?' 

'Sod John and his etiquette, we're leaving.' She bit her lip as she looked at him and then broke into a grin as he did. They couldn't get out of there fast enough, kissing and touching each other as they waited in the lobby for a cab and continuing their foreplay as they were driven to the hotel.

By the time they made it through the front door of the B&B they were giggling and starting to undress. Molly had managed to unbutton Sherlock's waistcoat and shirt and by the time they hit the first floor he'd pulled her dress up and off her leaving her wearing nothing but her bra and knickers and knee high boots.

If the landlord had been waiting up for them Molly was glad that they hadn't seen him. 

Finally they made it to the top floor and Sherlock pushed Molly up against the wall outside their room. His kiss consumed her and she wrapped her legs around his waist amazed by how easily he seemed to lift her. She heard his zipper and then she could feel him pressed against her as he moved her pants to one side. In one thrust he was inside her and Molly felt as though she had been waiting all her life for the feeling of his cock inside her. 

She cried out at the feel of it but he was already moving, thrusting in and out of her. She could feel her shoulders scraping up and down the wall and the bang of his hips against hers, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was the feeling of him inside her? She could hear his moans growing louder, grunting with the effort of fucking her, and it all combined with the alcohol and the movements of his erection to build her towards another climax. 

She heard herself calling out his name, feeling his mouth and breath on her neck at he kissed and worried at the skin there. Her hands were on his neck and in his hair and she tugged on it until he brought his face to hers, for a moment they looked into each other's eyes and Molly knew she had never seen a more beautiful sight that his eyes fully dilated with lust and dazed with his arousal. She kissed him, tasting him, wanting to devour him and then she felt her orgasm start, taking away her conscious mind and leaving her powerless. 

Vaguely she felt his movements start to become more erratic as he strove for his own release before he finally slammed into her with a low guttural groan which sent residual shockwaves of pleasure spasming through her body. 

She clung to him as he slowly slid them to the floor before their mouths met again in another kiss, this one slower and softer than the last but with no less emotion in it. 

It was only then that Moly realised they hadn't even made it to the bedroom and she started to giggle causing Sherlock to stop kissing her and raise a questioning eyebrow. When she mentioned him to it he just offered to have sex with her again in the bed but he did ask for a short period of grace in order for him to recover. That just had her laughing once more but they finally picked up their discarded clothes and made it into their room before they were discovered by a returning John and Mary.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH 

The following morning was their last in Brighton and Molly and most of the others decided to make their way down to the shoreline. It wasn't quite warm enough and definitely not sandy enough for paddling instead they skimmed stones into the waves and sat listening to the endless crash and pull of the waves. 

Molly walked along the edge of the waves with Sally, politely discussing the weather and their plans for the wedding and the week ahead. As they fell silent Molly overheard Sherlock berating John and insisting he find him a case as soon as possible on their return.

'You owe me John. I agreed to come on this weekend under sufferance but enough is enough. I need to work; I'll go out of my mind if you don't find me something.'

Sally rolled her eyes and Molly heard her distinctly mutter, 'bloody psychopath,' under her breath and she couldn't help the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach from rising up.

She made her excuses and went and sat on the drier pebbles higher up on the beach, looking out to sea to try to calm her mind. She didn't want her current thoughts in her head but she couldn't help it; she was still so unsure of her new found relationship with Sherlock. What if it was all a lie? What if she'd just been a distraction on a boring weekend?

She tried to tell herself that she wasn't, that she meant something to him but the turnaround in his behaviour had her unnerved and in the clear light of day, with a return to London imminent, she couldn't help but give in to her fears; that nasty voice, which sounded so much like her mothers, which told her she wasn't interesting enough or attractive enough for him.

There was a scraping of stones as he sat down beside her, wrapping his arms around his knees as he stared out to sea.

Silently she looked at his profile and she felt her stomach roil. In her opinion he was so perfect. Loving him was the scariest and most painful thing that she had ever done and if he left her; if it turned out he had been using her, she wasn't sure she would ever have the strength to come back from it.

'Don't!'

He said the word so low and fast that she wasn't sure she'd actually heard it.

'Sorry, what?'

He looked at her and she noticed how unusually soft his expression was.

'Don't doubt me. Don't doubt my feelings for you. I know it's been fast and that you are starting to dismiss it as some sort of what....holiday romance? A distraction from my boredom? Well it's none of those things.'

He paused and then smiled, ducking his head momentarily, 'OK, maybe you are a distraction from my boredom....but in a good way. In a way that I don't want ever to end.'

'I want you to know...I need you to know that I love you Molly. I think I have probably loved you for quite some time but somehow I'd missed it.'

'So, yes, I want a case when I get home, I need something to take away the infernal buzzing in my head but when it's finished I want to come home to you. I don't just want you in my life or in my bed, I want you in my flat because you are my home Molly.'

By the time he'd finished Molly knew she had tears streaming down her face but she didn't mind because they were tears of utter joy.

She'd come away for a break, for a weekend away with friends but she was going home with so much more than that. She was going home with Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da...and there we leave them. So glad you all came along with me for this fun sex filled romp. I'm off on my hols now but I'll be back in a couple of weeks with a new fic for you all. In the meantime you know what I want....

**Author's Note:**

> The scene is set and the players are in place. Are we all set for a gun weekend with the Scooby Gang? It couldn't possibly all end in Sherlolly now could it?


End file.
